Slipping Away Slowly
by StarlightSorcerer
Summary: Angela struggles with her new job, with trying to maintain her persona of the typical E Corp employee. All the while though her mind wanders to thoughts of the past: a summer long ago, when she could no longer deny her feelings for Elliot. While keeping up her charade in the present, she attempts to remember who she was and is by looking back on that summer with her best friend.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: There are two things I want to discuss briefly here: the time when the story takes place and also a CONTENT WARNING. Fairly obvious, but the story takes place roughly between seasons 1 and 2, with flashbacks taking place far before the series. If you've not seen season 2, there is at least one SPOILER relating to Elliot's situation. Probably you should not read this unless you've seen 2 (what are you doing dude? watch it! it's great, seriously.) And now...**

 **CONTENT WARNING: There is a scene involving an attempted sexual assault. There is also a scene towards the end which is quite tense, which describes a sort of harassment. If you're concerned about this and would like more details, you're very welcome to talk to me. **

**Now that that's out of the way, it's time to read on, friend. I hope you enjoy the story.**

 **Chapter 1**

Angela had been staring at her computer screen for what could have been a few minutes or many long hours. When she was this absorbed in her work, she was barely aware of time passing. Music poured from her earbuds, but she'd hardly even listened since turning it on. It could have been Pink or Linkin Park, it didn't matter; it just kept her from getting distracted. What eventually broke her focus was her grumbling stomach. How long had it been since she'd last ate? Her eyes darted to the clock in the corner of her computer screen, and her suspicions were confirmed: it was lunchtime.

Angela leaned back in her chair with a sigh and plucked the earbuds from her ears. The music faded to a tinny drone, swallowed by the sounds of clacking keys and ringing phones and bored, quiet voices and other typical office noises.

When Angela was a kid, she imagined E-Corp as a place fit to burst with terrible people. Employees who, if they weren't outright mean, were at least rude and shifty. Of course she'd dismissed that idea a long time ago. This was a normal place, filled with mostly normal people who were happy or bored or annoyed or thinking about their weekend plans. It was not unlike nearly every other office in the country. Perhaps it was more difficult to accept E-Corp office life as average, than it was to accept her child-self's hellish nightmare version.

Angela found the cafeteria to be just as ordinary. She bought her usual: a small salad in a cheap, plastic container. She'd never been a fan of salad, but she didn't care for most of the other options. Especially the meat, which she didn't trust. Anyway, the salad came with a tiny cup of some sort of delicious dressing. She had no idea what was in it. She suspected it was just chemical garbage, but she didn't care quite enough to find out.

Angela preferred having her lunch outside. There were a few metal tables arranged not too far from the building, spread out around an otherwise blank and soul-draining area. Many other E-Corp employees were already there. Enjoying a meal in the fresh air was a good draw. What wasn't so good was the fact that anybody, E-Corp or not, could get there easily. She'd heard stories of employees being harassed, having their food containers flipped or dumped on their heads.

Previously she was not sure how to feel about it. Now that she could possibly be on the receiving end, she decided she didn't like it. She glanced around warily as she sat down. She wasn't going to wear her food today. She'd finally decided it was safe to open her container when a smiley older woman approached her.

"Hello there!" she chirped. "E-Corp?"

Angela looked her over. She seemed trustworthy enough. "Yeah?"

The woman glanced down at the empty seat. "May I join you?" Angela nodded and she sat down. "I've seen you around a bit. You're very new, aren't you?"

Angela was embarrassed by her nerves. Obviously this lady worked for the same company she did. She smiled politely. "Yes, I'm new," she replied.

The woman held out her hand. "I'm Winnie," she introduced herself.

Angela shook her hand. "I'm Angela."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Angela." Winnie grinned as she popped open her container.

Angela tried not to wince at the sandwich inside, which was filled with the pinkish and suspicious E-Corp meat. She opened her own container and squished the dressing out of its cup into the salad.

"I wouldn't eat that stuff if I were you," Winnie said with a scowl. "Probably causes cancer."

Angela really didn't want to hear that. So she pretended she didn't. She was a bit too hungry at the moment anyway. She shoveled a few dressing-soaked tomatoes into her mouth and smiled at Winnie, as if to say she'd live through this.

Winnie smiled back before growing a bit more serious. "How about that hack, huh?"

Angela mirrored her look of wide-eyed disbelief. "Shocking," she murmured with a shake of her head.

"It's awful." Winnie took another huge bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "Theesh peeble er _crayshee,"_ she mumbled through her food. She swallowed noisily. "They don't like E-Corp, I guess. I mean, yeah, they've done bad things, but no company's perfect. Look at Walmart! People still shop there, though. What's so special about E-Corp?"

Angela made sure to keep a smile frozen on her face. _They killed my mom._ "You make a good point," she said evenly.

Winnie nodded vigorously. "Yes, I think most people would say so," she chuckled lightly.

They ate in silence for a little while, Winnie devouring her sandwich like mad and Angela picking at her salad. Angela was usually better at making conversation. She couldn't think of anything to say, or maybe she was just too nervous to make words come out. _Is this what Elliot feels like all the time?_ She groaned inwardly when she thought of him, behind bars, alone. _Hopefully_ he was alone. What if another prisoner hurt him? Or—

"Honey?"

Winnie's shrill voice broke Angela out of her thoughts. "I'm sorry?"

"I asked if you've heard of Green Neon." Winnie had finished her sandwich, and was wiping the E-Corp meat fluids from her chin.

Angela shook her head.

"It's just this teeny bar a few blocks from here. Lots of us from E-Corp go there and just hang out." Winnie grinned. "You should join us sometime!"

Angela tried her best to look friendly and happy. "Yeah, that sounds nice." What must it be like to be Winnie? Just drifting through life, getting by on being kind but dim? Actually it sounded like a pretty good life. All that aside, Green Neon piqued her interest. She knew she had to go. She needed to look like she belonged, after all.

Winnie distractedly tossed her napkin into her container, giggling as though spontaneously intoxicated. "I met this really nice guy there. He works in Human Resources." She blinked curiously at Angela. "Do you have someone special?"

Angela gave a tight smile as she stabbed a cucumber with her plastic fork. "It's complicated."

"That's just a fancy way of saying 'no,'" Winnie chuckled. "My friend sent that joke to me on Facebook."

Angela nodded. Winnie wasn't incorrect. She hadn't really thought much about dating since the Ollie debacle. She really didn't have a good track record when it came to boyfriends. There was Ollie, before that there was John or Jim or Jerome or something similar. Then there was Brandon, her very first boyfriend.

It had been years since she'd thought about him. Or the camping trip.

Even so, Angela remembered it all so vividly. She remembered returning home from Brandon's house, after he had invited her to go up to his brother's camp with him, and feeling heavy with depression because she knew her dad wouldn't let her go. Maybe she could change his mind, but she very much doubted it. Well, she at least had to give it a shot.

Angela found her dad in the usual place, plopped down in front of the TV in the ancient recliner.

Angela flashed the brightest smile she could. "Hi, Dad."

He glanced at her, unimpressed. "Hey." He checked his watch. "You said you'd be home fifteen minutes ago."

Angela frowned and slumped her shoulders and did her best to show how bad she felt. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Her father turned quickly to search her face, assessing the level of honesty in her reaction. He stared at the TV again and sighed. "What do you want, Angela?"

Angela stammered for several moments, shocked and disappointed that her act was a failure.

"Spit it out," her dad muttered.

Angela took a deep breath and tried to smile again. "Dad, you remember I told you I had a boyfriend?"

"Brandon."

"Yeah. Anyway, he invited me to his brother's camp for the weekend. We haven't hung out too much outside of school, so he thought this would be a nice way for us to—"

Her father jerked his head around and stared at her intently. "Nice way to _what?"_ he demanded.

Angela's face burned. "A nice way for us to get to know each other," she told him, barely managing to suppress a groan. She saw her dad open his mouth again and yelled over him before he could embarrass her any more. "By _talking!"_

Angela's dad turned back to the TV, his face unreadable. He took a deep breath. Angela knew what was coming next: the third degree.

"How old is he?" was the first question.

"He's about my age," Angela replied briskly. She was a good girl. She had nothing to hide. "He'll be sixteen next month."

Her dad flipped through some more channels. An old trick. Really he was paying more attention to his daughter than the screen. "What's the deal with this camp? There gonna be alcohol there?"

Angela had no idea. She had to be honest, so she told him so.

Her father rubbed at his eyes, frustrated.

"Really, I don't know," Angela repeated, working to keep the desperation out of her voice. "Even if there is some, I promise I won't drink any."

Her dad scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Anybody else going?"

"Umm, yeah." Angela cleared her throat. "Brandon's big brother is driving us there, and his girlfriend's coming along. And, umm, _maybe_ her little sister?" She shifted her feet. "And also Darlene and—"

"That's a lot of people," her dad cut her off.

"It's-it's a big camp. There's plenty of room." Angela waited with bated breath for him to say something, but he remained silent. She figured he was mulling things over. What was going through his head? Angela nervously chewed on her lip. "So, can I—?"

"What about Elliot?" He sat up straight now, looking at her. "He'll be there too since his sister is going, right?" He asked the question agonizingly slowly.

Angela nodded. "Yeah, of course."

Her dad frowned. "I don't like him."

"Huh? Why?"

Her dad sniffed. "Something's not right about him. Hardly says a word. Don't think he's ever looked me in the eye. I don't know if I trust him."

Angela bit the inside of her lip, trying not to let on how disgusted she felt. A supposed adult, and he was no better than some of the kids at her high school. "Elliot is one of my best friends," she told him calmly. "He's not untrustworthy. He just…He has mental problems."

"Ted Bundy had mental problems too."

Angela shook her head in shock. "Dad, what the fu—?"

Her dad chuckled. "Calm down. I'm kidding. I'm just saying he's very strange, that's all."

Angela's eye twitched. She supposed now she'd have to add sanism to the list of her father's worst qualities. "So…" she sighed. "Can I go?"

Her dad did a double-take. "Oh! Absolutely not." And he resumed his channel surfing.

Angela tried to hold in her aggravation, but it spilled out. "What? I just—Why?"

He looked at her again, his jaw tightening. "You're going God knows where—"

"It's just over—"

"—with a group made up of mostly strangers and—You do understand you don't know Brandon all that well, right? He could be a creep."

"I will be careful," Angela assured him.

Her dad exhaled sharply. "And there could be alcohol involved…"

"Dad, I already promised I—"

Her dad waved her away. "This conversation is over," he stated with grandiose finality.

Angela stood there for a moment, staring at him in disappointment, before walking slowly to her room. She slumped onto her bed, wishing she had thrown out a few teen clichés like "you're ruining my life," but she wasn't that person, and her father would hardly respond positively to that.

She supposed the response she had gotten was reasonable enough. Well, at least in some aspects. Her upset was not even so much due to this particular argument as it was to so many other, smaller things, which stuck like burs in her mind.

From the moment she'd walked in that day, he'd seemed awfully annoyed with her, even before the camping trip discussion. She felt her dad was unusually harsh with her, for reasons she couldn't quite figure out. She was a good student. She got all A's…and B+'s. She was a member of the Athletic Club and Business Club. In the summertime she participated in the local model U.N. She was a good daughter. She followed all her dad's rules (at least ninety-nine percent of the time).

It wasn't as though everything went unnoticed by him, but Angela felt she was still deserving of more credit, at least a little. She tried to shake away the feeling. Perhaps she was just being petty and greedy.

A while later Angela buried herself in summer reading projects, having entirely given up on any hope of being with Brandon.

Then there was a knock on her door frame. Angela lifted her head to see her dad standing just outside the room, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide and serious.

"Listen," he said sternly.

Angela stared at him, frozen, not daring to even blink.

"No alcohol. No boys or _men_ in your tent or room or wherever you are. Understood?"

Angela nodded quickly. "Yes, of course."

"And be careful."

Angela held her head up, in a way that she believed made her look graceful and mature. "Yes, Dad, I will be careful, I promise."

Her dad scratched his nose, eyebrows crumpling with distress. "All right," he mumbled, then he lumbered away down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
**

Angela took some time to consider her outfit. She needed something in-between _I'm-going-to-work_ and _I'm-trying-to-get-laid_. After some thought, she put together what she decided was a good balance. Before leaving, she made sure to feed Elliot's fish. She smiled as she shook the flakes into the tank and the fish rocketed to the surface.

"Be good, Qwerty," she murmured as she headed out the door.

The night air was predictably brisk. This particular street was as quiet as it always was at this late hour, though the usual cacophony of car horns and revving engines sounded from just a few streets over. Intermingling with that was the harsh barking of one of the shadier coin dealers, coming from a small park a block over.

Angela made her way to the busier streets, relieved when the normal city noise drowned out his yelling. Even so it was impossible to ignore just how much things had changed. All the stores she passed had the coin and E-Coin posters taped in the window, some handwritten by an obviously harried shop-owner. "coin ONLY" and similar messages on poster board and cardboard hung crookedly on the glass. Many of the smaller businesses in this area were now shuttered.

Angela looked at this, at everything, and like everyone else she asked herself: _Now what?_

She shook those worries away. That wasn't what she was meant to be thinking of right now. She checked the street signs. That Green Neon place that Winnie had mentioned was supposed to be right around here, according to Google Maps. There were a few other bars and clubs dotted around, but none of them were what she was looking for. She tensed as another herd of loud and most likely drunk guys stumbled past her. This street was terribly crowded, and the suffocating stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke was everywhere.

Angela huffed and pressed on. Up ahead a green glow had caught her eye. Finally she'd found it. Above the door was the name of the bar she wanted, spelled out in what else but green neon. It was by far the quietest place on the street. Everywhere else, fifteen to twenty people streamed in and out of the buildings, but here, she saw only two people: two men, maybe about her age, who were leaving the place. They regarded her warily as they passed. She smiled at them, trying to put them at ease, but they were having none of it. She wondered what their problem was as she pushed the door open.

Green Neon was a little bit bigger than it looked from the outside. There were some grimy looking tables set up to the left of the bar, with a mysteriously more empty space between the dining area and the bathrooms. The place was old: all the wooden tables and chairs, the floor, and the bar were scratched and worn. It had a warm and cozy feel to it though. Between the smell of beer and the sound of some muffled pop song coming out of a beaten-up juke-box, it seemed a lovely place to hang out with friends after a long day. And that's what appeared to be happening. There were about thirty or so people packed into the bar, chatting and chuckling.

Angela had taken just a few steps inside when the bartender's head shot up.

"Hey," he said. There was a strange tone of familiarity in his voice, though with a stern edge to it.

Angela smiled. "Hi."

The bartender shuffled out from behind the bar and waddled towards her, his eyes getting bigger the closer he got. "Just stay right there," he ordered, with a tremor in his voice.

Angela frowned. She was about to ask what exactly was going on, when a familiar voice rang out from the back of the bar.

"Oh! Larry! Wait!"

Angela turned to see Winnie hurrying towards them, the beer in her glass nearly sloshing out. Winnie grinned widely.

"I know her!" she panted. "I met her at lunch today!"

Larry the Bartender relaxed his shoulders. "Okay," he muttered. He smiled at Angela, gave a nod, then made his slow way back to the bar without another word.

Angela squinted curiously at him as Winnie grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the back of the bar.

"I'm so glad you came!" Winnie squeaked. "I'll introduce you to every—Oh! Larry!" She turned her head towards the bar. "How about you get our lovely Angela here a beer!"

Larry nodded, still twitchy and rattled as he went to the tap.

Angela tried to ask Winnie what had happened or not happened back there, but her question was drowned out by the sea of people she was being dragged into. Her face grew hot as they all turned their gazes on her.

Winnie patted her shoulder. "Everyone, this is Angela! She's very new."

Then Winnie launched into a long series of introductions: everyone's names and their jobs at the company. Angela struggled to commit all of the information to memory. She thought of all the people seated at the tables and the bar. How many of them were E-Corp as well?

After the intros were done, Larry arrived with Angela's beer. Angela barely had time to thank him before he hurried away again. She watched him go to the door, where a new customer had just walked in. He seemed startled by Larry at first, not unlike Angela had been. The two had a brief conversation. The customer frowned. Larry shook his head. They exchanged a few more words then the customer nodded. Angela raised her eyebrows in shock as Larry the Bartender patted the customer down, like he was going through security at the airport. At the same moment Angela noticed something she hadn't before: the front window. It was not a window anymore. The glass was gone, replaced with sloppily nailed plywood. Angela wasn't sure of the exact nature of the incident that had occurred here, but she had some pretty good guesses as to what had happened.

Angela quickly turned back to the E-Corp people, realizing she'd missed half the conversation. A man with tired eyes was telling a story in a hushed voice, while everyone else listened in rapt silence.

"…'with that name-tag on your shirt,'" he was saying. "That's what I told him. So that was why, I told him, I said 'man, that was why.' And they all—" He broke off, his jaw tight and his cheeks reddening. "They just fu—Two of 'em, five, ten, who knows—They beat the shit out of him. _Ruthless._ He's got a fracture in his jaw that looks like a god-damn ravine."

"Screw those people," another guy spat.

Winnie nodded in agreement, gaze burning with calm fury. "They should go to prison," she declared.

"That's awful," Angela agreed, and she meant it.

"And the hackers too," added a red-headed woman in the circle. "Throw them all in prison!"

"Yes!" Winnie nodded vigorously. "I was talking with Barbara on Facebook last night, and she said they could be put away for a _long_ time!"

Angela tensed at her words. She took a deep breath. _Come on, stop being so transparent._

The tired man who had told the story now had fire in his eyes. "Was this what they wanted? Huh?" He looked between everyone, as though they had the answers. "My friend's in the hospital! Why? He's just trying to do his job like everybody else! It's anarchy out there!"

A brunette woman closest to him scoffed. "Of course this is what they wanted. They _wanted_ a collapse, they _wanted_ anarchy, us vs. them, all of it."

"I hope the FBI gets to the bottom of all this," Winnie sighed. "These people need to be punished. They need to see what they've done is wro—"

The tired man chuckled. "They don't give a shit. They did what they wanted to do. They think they're _heroes!"_

At that statement, that clearly they all agreed with, everyone in the circle exploded into a ranting rage. Angela's eyes darted around. Everybody shouted over each other, some waving their arms or shaking their heads. Even the formerly calm Winnie was now in a frenzy.

Angela's heart pounded.

The air was suffocating, drenched with their righteous fury.

Angela knew she should stay, but she felt her feet carrying her away from them.

Two men at a nearby table were having the same impassioned conversation. This sort of anger was certainly contagious.

"…stocks, too, they're in the shitter," the one man said.

"I know, it's a disaster," said the other. "There's a lot of people who depend on those stocks, ya know?"

Angela plopped down in a bar stool. She loosened her grip on her now empty beer glass. She barely remembered chugging the remainder of it on the way to the bar.

Angela's eyes went to the boarded up window. She wondered how she'd gotten here.

And the 'here' wasn't just the bar.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
**

The plan was to get to the camp by early afternoon on Friday, and leave early Sunday. Brandon's big brother would drive Angela and Darlene and Elliot to the camp in his van, and they'd meet up with the others there.

Angela's mind still reeled with shock. She couldn't believe her dad had agreed to this. He even drove her to Elliot and Darlene's house, where Brandon and his brother would be picking them up shortly.

When Angela got there, she found Darlene already going insane with boredom. Once her patience ran out, however little she had, she could not be contained. Right now she was trying to scrabble up the neighbor's old, decrepit tree. Elliot watched her, making sure she didn't injure herself, but he didn't look too worried. Darlene only ever made it a foot or two up the tree before sliding back down again.

"Careful," Elliot told her.

Darlene groaned loudly as she stared up at the tree. "I've seen you climb trees like it's nothing!" she whined. "Why can't _I_ do it?!"

"Hey, you guys," Angela greeted them cheerfully.

"Yeah! Angela!" Darlene darted away from the tree. "Where's this Brandon guy already? I'm _bored!"_

Angela chuckled. "He'll be here soon."

"That's good," Elliot said. "Darlene's been trying to climb the tree all morning." He shot her an amused look.

Darlene rolled her eyes. "Not _all_ morning!"

Angela enjoyed watching the way Elliot dealt with his little sister when she was in one of her moods. He just stood there with a blank or vaguely entertained expression until she tired herself out. Over the years he'd matured and learned how to get through things in his own unique way. It was admirable. More than that, Angela had realized, it was actually…maybe just a bit—

"Hot," Darlene sighed.

Angela whipped her head around. "What?"

Darlene fanned her face. "It's _way_ too hot today!" She huffed. "I'm sweating and it's gross! I wanna get in that air-conditioned van!"

Just as she'd finished speaking, an old, gray van came rattling around the corner, as though she'd summoned it.

Darlene screwed up her nose as the stinking van squeaked to a halt in front of them. "Is Brandon's brother a sex-offender or what?!" she shouted. "What's with this thing?"

An older guy, Angela guessed Brandon's brother, climbed out of the driver's seat with a chuckle. "Hey, don't pick on Rusty," he said lightly. "This guy's taken me halfway across the country."

Darlene crossed her arms as he approached. "You're one of those guys who names his car?" she scoffed.

Elliot stared wide-eyed at his feet, obviously embarrassed by his sister's behavior. But Brandon's brother just laughed again.

"I like cars," he said simply.

"Probably _too_ much."

Angela turned to see Brandon jogging over to them. He flashed her a quick smile.

Brandon snorted. "Brent would marry a car if he could."

Darlene burst out laughing. "Angela, I like this guy already!"

Brandon smiled, almost smugly. He looked between her and her brother. "You're Darlene and Elliot, right?" he asked. "Angela told me about you guys." He smirked at Darlene. "She didn't tell me you were obnoxious, though."

Darlene bounced over to him. "Well, Angela didn't tell me that you are super hot!" She held out her hand. "It's _really_ nice to meet you!" she said slowly, letting her eyes wander a bit too much.

Brandon rolled his eyes and shook her hand. "Yeah, likewise," he muttered.

Angela leaned closer to him. "She doesn't really have a filter," she murmured.

"I heard that!" Darlene snapped.

Brandon held out his hand to Elliot, who took just a moment too long to notice him and shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, Elliot."

"Yep." Elliot's eyes darted between him and the ground.

"So, do you agree your sister has no filter?" Brandon asked.

Elliot could see Darlene glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. "Kinda," he muttered, and Darlene smacked his shoulder.

Brent clapped his hands together. "All right, guys," he began. "This is fun and all but we should really get going. It's quite a ways to—"

"Wait wait wait!" Darlene shouted over him. She hopped over to Brent and poked his bicep. She nodded her approval. "Yeah, you're pretty strong, right?" She looked him dead in the eye, gaze sharp and serious. "Arm-wrestle me real quick!"

Brent spluttered in shock then let out a chuckle. "Wh-what?"

Darlene backed towards the abandoned house next to hers, where an old metal picnic table sat in the overgrown yard. "Come on! Just real quick! Please? _Please?"_

"The hell?" Brandon muttered.

Brent gave Angela a questioning look. "Umm…"

Angela smiled at him, breathing out a sigh. "I don't think she'll leave until you do it," she told him.

Darlene was going through an arm-wrestling phase. Her obsession was the result of her watching a late night airing of the Stallone movie, _Over the Top_. After that, she wanted to arm-wrestle basically anyone who came within fifty-feet of her. Her preferred opponents were guys twice her size and therefore nearly impossible to beat. She also pestered Elliot to arm-wrestle her when there was no one else around. Angela found it odd that the whole thing was that exhilarating to her.

Darlene and Brent sat across from each other at the dilapidated table. Brandon did the countdown, and the match started. Angela was surprised to see it go on for more than five seconds, before she realized Brent was just going easy on her.

"Come on, you can do it!" Darlene cheered herself on. "Top-roll! Top-roll!"

Her technique never worked. A second later Brent pinned her.

Darlene threw her head back in frustration. "Dammit, I almost had him!" she shouted at the sky or God or maybe just nothing and no one.

Brent stood up, chuckling. "Okay, now I think we should probably get—"

"Wait!" Darlene yelled again. "I'm warmed up now! I can finally beat my stupid brother!" She gave Elliot a hard look. _"Sit down!"_ she barked.

Elliot obeyed with a quiet sigh and sat down at the table.

Brandon groaned. "Seriously?" He begrudgingly did the countdown again.

Elliot didn't take it easy on Darlene at all. After two seconds he'd slammed her hand onto the table.

"You cheated!" Darlene gasped. He hadn't, and never had. "Cheater! Re-match!"

"No, we're leaving," Brent told her nicely but firmly. He grabbed their bags from the sidewalk and hauled them to the back of the van.

Brandon shot Angela an exasperated look on his way to the passenger's seat. She just gave a _what-can-ya-do?_ shrug in response, and went to the back seat. She found a blond boy about her age leaning against the back door. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

He straightened up as she approached, quietly stammering something Angela couldn't quite make out. He smiled, his face turning red. He sort of looked at her but not quite. Angela read him immediately: he was shy or socially awkward or had SAD like Elliot. That had to be why he hadn't joined the group earlier.

Angela smiled back at him, all the while trying to figure out where she'd seen him before. "Hello," she greeted him.

"Hi, I-I'm Reggie, how are you?" he mumbled quickly, holding out his hand. Obviously rehearsed. "W-we're in the same math class."

Angela nodded in recognition. "Oh! Right!" She shook his hand. "I'm Angela."

"I-I know." Reggie's face reddened even more.

Angela's smile faded a bit. She was sure making him awfully nervous without even trying. She pulled open the back door and climbed in. Elliot was seated beside her, and Darlene beside him. It was more cramped than Angela thought it would be. How were they all going to fit? As Reggie slid in next to her, she realized the answer was not very well. She ended up sandwiched between Elliot and Reggie From Math Class. She suppressed a sigh and tried to accept that this was her reality for the next few hours: Brandon and Brent in the comfortable, spacious front seats, Reggie-Angela-Elliot-Darlene sardine can in the back.

Brent glanced at them in the rearview mirror. "Y'all are super comfy, right?"

"Y-yep," Reggie squeaked.

Angela forced a smile, hoping he was joking with that question.

"Yeah," Elliot mumbled.

"This van sucks dick!" Darlene snapped, brutally honest as always.

Brent just laughed at her again. "Then let's go!"

The van revved to life and chugged noisily down the street. Rusty was exhausted before the journey had even started.

Angela shifted uncomfortably. She needed to distract herself from the current situation. "Brandon, do you like the outdoors? I mean you probably do, right? You said you go up to the camp every year."

Brandon shrugged. He stared out the window. "Yeah, it's pretty nice."

Angela waited for him to go on. He didn't. After a few moments, she tried again to strike up a conversation. "So what's the camp like?"

Brandon was quiet a moment. "Umm, yeah, it's nice," he said at last, distractedly. "You'll see it when we get there." He reached into his pocket and plucked out some device.

Angela blinked in confusion. Why was he so curt? Maybe it was just that he was nervous. She watched him play on what she could now see was a Gameboy, and tried yet again. "What are you playing?" she asked, in the most joyfully curious tone she could muster.

"Pokemon," he muttered in response.

Angela again waited for more, but again there wasn't any. Frustrated, she gave up on trying to talk to him. After several moments Brent and Darlene struck up a conversation, with Reggie jumping in every now and then.

None of that distracted Angela from her discomfort. She had just about no personal space, with only the teeniest amount of room to move. She contemplated whether she should sit closer to Elliot or Reggie. Elliot was the obvious choice. He was her friend, so she shouldn't mind sitting so close to him. But, since he was _just a friend,_ she supposed she shouldn't have intimate knowledge of what it felt like to have his thigh pressed up against hers.

Well now the choice was pretty obvious. Angela shifted closer to Reggie. As she did, she saw his smile grow. Angela wasn't dense. She knew what was going on. She sighed and shifted away from him a little too quickly. She bumped into Elliot who bumped into Darlene who bumped into the door with a hard _clunk._

Darlene groaned in aggravation.

"Sorry, guys," Angela mumbled.

"It's fine," Elliot said.

Angela didn't need to look at Darlene to know she was glaring daggers at her.

So Angela thought of Reggie's overly excited expression and convinced herself it was at least slightly less uncomfortable to sit near Elliot. She ignored the quiet voice in the back of her head that told her that wasn't true. She felt more awkward sitting close to her best friend than to a near-stranger.

A few moments or minutes passed, then Elliot leaned towards his sister and mumbled something. Angela didn't know what he'd said, but whatever it was, it made his little sister scoff.

"No, there's no room!" Darlene hissed. "I'm already crushed into the door, you freaking behemoth!"

Angela tensed even more. Obviously Elliot had asked Darlene if she could move over. He felt just as awkward about their seating arrangement.

Angela stared down at her hands and tried to act as though she'd not heard any of that exchange. All the van's windows were open, but she still felt so warm.

Angela looked hopefully to Brandon for a distraction once again. Then she saw the way his head was tilted back, and she heard the snores. He was asleep.

The outdoors! She could focus on that.

Angela stared out the window at the greenish blur of trees. They were in a much more rural area now. She felt a smile coming on. It was all very beautiful. The trees and the ferns and the streams and Elliot's arm pressed up against hers, hard with muscle but also still somehow very comfor—

Angela let her head fall back onto the seat and she closed her eyes to the world. She daydreamed about fading away into nothing and then being reborn in an alternate universe where she wasn't in this situation.

"Check out that little stream to the left!" Brent yelled out suddenly. "I used to catch minnows down there with my dad. Then we'd find salamanders too!" He nudged his little brother's shoulder. "Remember?"

Brandon awoke with a jerk and a snort. "Uhh, y-yeah," he mumbled tiredly.

Elliot leaned towards the front seat. "How much farther?" he asked, his voice actually at a normal, audible volume.

Brandon gasped in an overly dramatic fashion. "He speaks! You got anything else you wanna say for once?" he chuckled.

Angela watched Elliot sink back into his seat, his eyes on the floor. She noticed Brandon wave his hand dismissively. She wished he'd turn around, so he could see her glaring at him.

It was Brent who answered Elliot's question. "Still a while 'til we get to the camp. We're comin' up on a little diner. We could stop there."

After a few short minutes, Brent pulled the van over into a sea of gravel. Across it was a small building that resembled a log cabin. Rusty's brakes squealed as he came to stop.

Brent drummed on the wheel. "All right, everybody out!"

"Thank _God!"_ Darlene rocketed out the door and Elliot followed her just as fast.

Angela breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she stepped out into the warm summer air. A gentle breeze rattled the leaves and ruffled her hair. The only sounds were the birdsong and cicadas. Angela was so much more used to the sounds of traffic and neighbors chatting just a little too loudly. She had to admit that this environment was the more peaceful of the two. However the quiet and picturesque place was currently being a bit spoiled by Darlene's barking.

"What are you doing?" Darlene demanded. She was shaking her head at her brother as he removed a bag from the trunk and slung it over his shoulder.

Angela recognized it as his laptop case. At first, Elliot had been predictably reluctant to go on the camping trip. There would be too many people he didn't know, too much social interaction. Darlene had gotten him to come along by promising that they could do stuff on their laptops in the evenings. What exactly that "stuff" was, Angela had no idea, even though they'd told her many times. It always went right over her head.

Darlene hurried to keep up with her brother. "You're gonna do that _now?"_ she went on. "Can't you _wait?"_

"I'll just work for a bit," Elliot assured her.

As Angela followed them she heard the clacking of gravel behind her, then a hand took hers.

Brandon grinned at her. "You like it out here?" he murmured the question, so close to her that she felt his breath on her face.

"It's beautiful," Angela replied.

"Well, not as beautiful as you."

"So corny," Angela groaned.

Brandon raised his eyebrows. "But you _like_ corny," he chuckled as he led her into the diner.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Yes, but I can only take so much corniness." She looked around the place. It was small, but spacious enough. It was a place where everything was made of wood. There were a few too many deer heads on the walls for Angela's liking. She wasn't a fan of being stared at by long dead animals while she ate.

As soon as they all sat down, Elliot was yanking his laptop from his pack.

Brent eyed the laptop curiously. "Ooh! You like computers, man?"

"Mmm-hmm." Elliot pushed the screen back, eyes darting between it and the keyboard.

"Cool. You know I got this buddy upstate who built his own computer. I don't know much about all this stuff, but, I guess the thing's super—"

"Don't bother talking to him," Brandon hissed. "Seriously it's a waste of time. He's not even listening anyway."

Angela shot another glare at her boyfriend to silence him. Darlene too was upset, scowling and shaking her head. Elliot looked up at Brandon only to give him a quick, sharp glance that told him he'd heard everything. Brandon didn't take notice of any of that as he conversed with Brent and Reggie.

At some point a waitress came around to take their orders. Angela didn't remember what she'd told her, as she was still too busy stewing with anger. She was already imagining the talk she'd have with Brandon about his behavior. It was far from the first time someone had treated Elliot this way, but none of these other people had been her boyfriend. She felt some responsibility to set things right.

The minutes flew by. Brandon and Brent and Darlene and occasionally Reggie From Math Class talked. Angela stayed mostly quiet, giving polite smiles whenever someone looked at her, hoping the storm in her mind was not obvious to them. Elliot was eternally silent, absorbed by whatever was happening on his computer screen.

Angela somewhat noticed the waitress arrive with their food. Apparently she'd ordered a sandwich of some sort. Right now the food and the diner and just about everything else seemed washed out. She was watching Elliot. How long she'd been doing that she didn't know. At some point she'd meant to glance quickly in his direction, and at some point after she'd forgotten to look away.

Angela had seen Elliot this way before. When he was in front of a computer, he had a look of such intense focus it was almost overpowering to witness. His eyes flitted around the screen, his fingers moved nimbly over the keys. Angela studied his face, mesmerized.

"Hey, you gonna eat that sandwich or what?"

Brandon's voice broke Angela out of her trance. She jerked her head around to look at him, her face burning. He was smiling, rather placidly. She forced a smile. "Umm, yeah," she muttered.

"Quit day-dreaming then," he chuckled. He took a bite of his burger, which was already half-finished.

Angela felt more nauseas than hungry. But she wasn't sure when she'd be eating again, so she forced some of her sandwich down. Her stomach churned with guilt, the same way it had on the car ride. She'd noticed it over the years: her changing feelings towards Elliot. But they didn't mean anything. He was her friend, her _best_ friend. It was bizarre to imagine him as her boyfriend. Would she want that anyway, to suddenly start doing…couple stuff…with him? _No, no,_ she told herself over and over. _Of course not._ This could all just be chalked up to some weird hormonal phenomenon. _Right? It has to be._ Well, whatever was going on, she had a boyfriend. So whatever weird thoughts she was having about Elliot, whatever inappropriate feelings she had, they all had to be nipped in the bud.

Starting right then.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4  
**

The E-Corp people never seemed to run out of things to talk about when it came to the 5/9 hack. Rants, theories, horror stories they'd heard on the news, how they and their friends and neighbors and relatives had been affected, and on and on.

Angela did her best to stand there and look as passionate and invested as they were. She slipped away every now and then to grab another drink. Listening to their chatter was much easier when she had a buzz. After a while though, not even alcohol could be of much help. Toward the end of the night she found herself sitting at the bar, staring down at the scratched-up counter. The E-Corp people had been discussing the issue for hours. Angela had heard more than enough.

Anxiety pulsed through her. These were her friends they were talking about. She had the ridiculous, irrational fear that they'd see right through her. Somehow they'd come to know the truth just by her being there.

All their talk depressed her. She pitied them. What they said was not always wrong. She could even agree whole-heartedly at times.

But still she hated them. She couldn't help it. They could give her a million reasons not to, but she believed it would not change her mind. She _hated_ them.

She was too exhausted to really feel that anger though. Now she mostly felt hollow.

A light tap on her shoulder brought her out of her haze.

Winnie stood beside her, calmer now, and more or less back to her smiley self. "You feeling okay, honey?" she murmured the question.

Angela forced a smile. "Fine," she breathed. "Just tired."

Winnie nodded. "I completely understand." She glanced back at her friends, clicking her tongue thoughtfully. "We got pretty fired up tonight. That happens sometimes." She let out a heavy sigh. "I know it's hard to talk about. But I think it's important that we keep talking. That's how we get through this." Winnie smiled warmly and gave Angela's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Angela smiled back. _Don't touch me._ "You're very right," she replied, with such intense forced sincerity she made herself sick.

Winnie shifted her purse onto her shoulder. "Well, I'm going to head out. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe," Angela replied simply.

Winnie grinned. "You have a good night, honey. Get some rest." She waved as she went out the door.

Angela stared into her empty glass. Rest would be nice. She just needed to sleep and not think about things for a while.

Then someone sat down beside her. He conversed with the bartender, ordered his drink, and took no notice of her. But she noticed him quite a bit. Short, dark hair. Clean shaven. Bright green eyes. Too nicely dressed for a bar like this. Angela guessed he was around her age. Not what she'd usually go for, but he would do.

She put her usual plan into play. A number of empty glasses had been left on the counter by a few of the more heavy drinkers. She slid those closer to her own glasses. She ruffled her hair just a bit, hoping to achieve that messy but sexy look. Lastly she leaned her head on her hand and smiled, in the most dazed manner she could manage. She tapped the guy on the shoulder and he turned, eyes big and inquisitive.

"Hello," she drawled sweetly.

He cracked a small smile. "Hi," he said in a cheerful yet cautious tone.

Angela shoved her hand towards him. "I'm Angela!" She looked him up and down. "And who are you?"

The man shook her hand with a chuckle. "My name is Emanuel," he introduced himself.

"Aww, cute," Angela giggled.

Emanuel stammered. "Umm, m-my name or—?"

"Everything," Angela replied without hesitation. "Everything about you is cute."

Emanuel blinked at her, his green gaze piercing. "I could say the same about you."

Angela giggled again and waved away the compliment. "Oh, stop."

Emanuel squinted curiously. "You E-Corp?"

"Yeah." Angela's eyes darted to the crowded tables. "I'm in the right place, aren't I?"

"You certainly are." Emanuel shifted just a bit closer to her.

Angela grinned triumphantly. She had him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**

After lunch, everyone piled back into the van and they were once again on the quiet country road. Brent had just told them that they were nearly there. Angela was glad for that. For this part of the trip, she sat between Darlene and the door. Much less awkward, but still cramped.

If Angela thought it had been rural before, it was nothing compared to the area they now drove through. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen any sign of civilization. She had seen a few houses dotted along the road a while ago. Now there was nothing but forest.

Brent turned the van onto a fairly overgrown dirt road, if it could even be considered a road at this point. It was the most bumpy, decrepit thing, and the van seemed to have no shock absorbers. Angela shifted closer to Darlene, fearing she'd bruise her hip on the door. When Rusty the Van finally came to a stop, the feeling of relief in the air was palpable. Everyone got out quickly, desperate to be somewhere less claustrophobic. Darlene practically shoved Angela out the door, sighing loudly with impatience.

A gentle breeze blew through the pine trees, spreading their scent all around the grove. This small space was the picnic area, and the tables sat in weedy dirt, all the thick grass worn away by campers. A thin path weaved its way through the trees, leading to a clearing. Judging by the pile of ash at its center and the logs surrounding it, that was where the campfires took place. Beyond all this the pine forest thinned out, giving way to a small beach and a lake. A small island floated in the glistening water, holding a few pines of its own.

"Beautiful," Reggie commented, the first thing he'd said in a while.

"You bet," Brent grunted as he jumped out of the van. "This camp's been in the family for—"

"All right," Brandon interrupted, his tone light. "They don't need a history lesson." He turned to Angela. "Water's perfect this time of year. We should swim. We might even see a few turtles."

Angela was a bit spooked by the idea of a turtle getting anywhere near her. She'd once read about a monstrous kind of turtle with sharp, powerful jaws that attacked people. She tried to smile at him, but her anxiety was obvious. "Umm, that sounds…interesting."

Brent smiled at the group. "Everyone, the lake's perfectly safe," he assured them. "Ain't no leaches, and the turtles won't hurt you." He glanced pointedly at Angela. "Probably best swimmin' day'll be tomorrow, 'cause—"

"I see picnic tables!" Darlene blurted, pointing a commanding finger at Elliot. "Re-match! _Now!"_

Brent laughed, still endlessly entertained by her behavior. "This again?"

Angela felt they were blessed to have someone in charge who was this easygoing. There weren't a great many people who could put up with Darlene when she was like this.

Darlene sat at one of the tables, drumming impatiently on her legs as Elliot trudged over to her. "Hurry it up!" she yelled at him. He shot her a faintly irritated glance before sitting down heavily across from her. She whipped her head around and stared at Brandon through narrowed eyes. "Umm, _hello?"_ she drawled. "You gonna do the countdown or what?"

"What," Brandon muttered. Still he went to the end of the table to do his duty.

Darlene glanced at Angela. "Hey, why don't you give this a shot?" She pointed to her brother. "I bet you could freaking _bury_ him."

Darlene had for a long time wanted Angela to arm-wrestle him, or really anyone at all. Her response was always the same. "I'm good, thanks."

Darlene shrugged. "All right. Then it's up to me." She turned back to her opponent, stretching her arms and cracking her knuckles. "I will _wreck_ you," she declared, obviously very much enjoying playing up the drama just like the pros. "What do you say to that?"

Elliot cracked a small smile.

Darlene raised her eyebrows. "Too scared to talk, huh? Well, let's just—"

Brandon interrupted her with a loud sigh. "Can we just please do this already?"

Angela watched the two join hands. Brandon did the countdown. Two seconds later, Elliot beat her again.

"Come _on!"_ Darlene shouted through her teeth.

"Think you did a bit better that time," Brent said.

"Did she?" Reggie mumbled, looking doubtful.

Suddenly a smug grin formed on Brandon's face. He stared right at Elliot, challenge in his eyes. "I can beat him," he asserted.

Darlene jumped to her feet, eyes big with excitement. "Hell yeah! Do it! Do it!" she chanted.

Angela smiled at her boyfriend, shaking her head. "Really?"

"Yes," Brandon replied. He sat down and immediately grasped Elliot's hand. "You ready?"

Elliot gave a small nod. He shifted uneasily as Darlene did the countdown, screaming out the numbers so loudly a flock of birds exploded out of a nearby tree and fled the area.

Angela had to admit she was at least slightly curious about the outcome of the match. Elliot had never had an opponent who was more equal in strength. The match was actually lasting longer than five seconds, and Darlene was losing her mind over it, jumping around and yelling at Brandon that he better win or else.

Angela watched their hands as they pulled each other back and forth. She glanced up at Elliot. And that's when she saw it. The look. How had she never noticed before? Elliot stared at his opponent the same way he did a computer screen: with great intensity and passion. Well, perhaps it wasn't quite as great. But it was enough.

Angela was vaguely aware of Brandon losing, and a few "oh's" and "aww's" of disappointment from the others. Then Brandon stood up and Angela hurried to take his place. She stared straight at Elliot, who stared back at her in confusion. "I'll arm-wrestle you," she said.

Elliot opened his mouth a bit, but no words came out.

Darlene spluttered in shock. "Wha-What? Seriously?!" she cackled with delight. "This is amazing!"

Elliot blinked at his friend, and quietly, he said, "Wh-why do you—?"

"It'll be fun," Angela answered with a smile. "Right?" She propped her arm up on the table. She felt a surge of satisfaction when Elliot gave a small smile and took her hand.

Darlene did the countdown as enthusiastically as ever.

When she said go, Angela gripped Elliot's hand tight and pulled, and he did the same. For a moment Angela saw Darlene out of the corner of her eye, heard her and the others. The next moment they and everything else didn't exist, like a switch had been flipped. It was only her and Elliot, her looking at him and him looking at her and their hands wrapped tightly together.

Elliot's eyes were big with shock. He was shocked that Angela wanted to do this, and probably, she guessed, even more shocked that she was actually holding her own against him. He seemed anxious too. His palm was starting to sweat.

"Don't lose your edge," Angela teased.

Elliot shifted a little. "I won't," he mumbled.

Angela frowned and tugged his hand roughly, frustration giving her a burst of strength. The look on his face was not the one she'd been hoping for. His eyes mostly watched their hands, some faint anxiety making his jaw tighten.

"You're nervous," Angela murmured.

Elliot didn't look at her. "Huh?" he muttered distractedly.

"You're nervous," Angela repeated, raising her voice but keeping her tone soft. "You're so nervous you can't even look me in the eye."

One corner of Elliot's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. "I-I'm not nervous," he breathed. Still his gaze was locked on their hands.

"Then _look at me,"_ Angela demanded, with such force she surprised herself. That did it. Finally he looked up at her, more still and calm now. Their eyes locked and she smiled in satisfaction. There was the look she wanted.

Angela realized with a jolt that her knuckles were nearly touching the table. With a sharp grunt she pulled their arms upright. Angela could see that Elliot was as tired as she was. His arm was shaking with exhaustion. She wondered briefly why she didn't just let him finish it. She needed a rest. Her palm was soaked with sweat, her arm ached from her wrist all the way up to her bicep from straining against him. She decided she would be the one to finish this. She wanted to see that cute expression of surprise on Elliot's face when she pinned him. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he blinked at her curiously. Angela turned her wrist as she leaned back. She kept turning until she felt his fingers open.

Elliot's eyes widened and Angela breathed out a chuckle. She had him. She applied just a little more pressure and pulled his arm down. As soon as Elliot's hand hit the table, the rest of the world crashed back into existence. Brent was clapping, Reggie said something in quiet surprise. Darlene was jumping all around and cursing and screaming at everyone, asking if they'd just seen what they clearly had. Angela had not yet looked away from Elliot, and he stared back at her, giving her a look of…amusement? Bewilderment? Angela really wasn't sure. His hand remained in hers until Darlene grabbed her wrist and yanked her arm up in the air.

"She is victorious!" Darlene declared. "What an incredible feat! Angela Moss takes home the gold!"

"That was cool," Reggie said.

"Absolutely," Brent agreed. "You must have good technique. He lasted a lot longer with you."

"Top-roll!" Darlene cheered. "She freaking top-rolled him!"

Angela turned around to comment, but then she saw Brandon, and her words caught in her throat. His eyes were narrowed, and he gave his head a small shake of disapproval. Angela's face grew warm. What was all that about? But there was that little voice in the back of her mind again, telling her she knew exactly what that was about.

Gladly, Angela didn't have to think any more about that for the moment. Two brunette girls were approaching them from the campfire trail. One of them ran up to Brent and they shared a kiss. Obviously that was the girlfriend he'd been talking about. The younger of the two hung back, smiling shyly.

"Guys, this is Amy—" Brent pointed to his girlfriend "—and Amber—" he pointed to the younger girl.

Brandon darted over to Amber. "Hey, Amber," he greeted her with a grin. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," Amber giggled, brushing some hair out of her face. "It's been a little while."

Brandon's eyes darted to the lake. "Hey, you remember that trail, right? The steep one that goes up Old Pine Hill?"

Amber batted her eyelashes. "How could I forget? The top must be real beautiful this time of year."

"We should go there," Amy suggested.

"That sounds nice," Angela agreed. She moved to follow them, but Brandon shook his head at her.

"It's not so nice for beginners," he told her, in an unnecessarily condescending tone. "You and your friends should take the left trail. Way easier."

Angela smiled and nodded, trying her best to look grateful for the information. She watched the four leave, Brent and Amy holding hands, and Brandon and Amber walking awfully close. She could tell they'd all known each other a long time.

"Just kinda left us, that's weird," Reggie muttered, echoing Angela's thoughts.

Elliot made a quiet sound of agreement.

Angela sighed. "Well, I guess—" She broke off at the sound of excited shouting. She turned to see two younger girls coming down the hill, and Darlene charging towards them. Angela recognized them as Darlene's friends from school. A while ago Darlene had told her she'd wanted them to come on the trip. Obviously she'd been successful in convincing their parents this was a good idea. They'd even driven the two all the way out into the middle of nowhere.

"Who are they?" Reggie asked.

Angela struggled to remember their names. They weren't exactly people she spoke to often.

"They're my sister's friends," Elliot answered him, seemingly forgetting their names himself. He watched the three of them with wary, tired eyes.

Reggie smiled at Angela. "Two more people for the hike, then."

"I guess so," she said.

Darlene and her friends took to the trail well, once they got used to all the strange forest noises. Darlene was spooked by the rapid tapping sounds of a woodpecker a few too many times, and her two friends jumped when a chipmunk shot across the trail. Now all three of them were climbing every boulder they came across, and throwing small rocks at each other, and other puzzling shenanigans. At first glance, Darlene's friends looked like the prissy, snobby kind of girls that lived at the mall and would do anything to not get their hands dirty. But really they were just like Darlene: bottomless wells of manic energy.

Angela spent most of the hike conversing with Reggie, who was in a shockingly talkative mood. Mostly they shared fun or frustrating stories of things that had happened in their math class. She made sure to smile politely, even though she was distracted by thoughts of her boyfriend. In the car ride here, he'd seemed wholly disinterested in her. Now it appeared he'd rather hang out with Amber. Exactly how close were they? Angela suppressed a groan of frustration. She was losing him.

"No! Get it away!" one of Darlene's friends shrieked behind her.

Angela turned just in time to see Darlene hurl a small, orange, lizard-like creature at her friend. She felt bad for whatever animal that was, or probably more accurately, had been. She caught Elliot's eye and they shared a look of exasperation. Then his eyes darted away from her, his face more than a little bit red.

Angela turned back to Reggie and tried to look like she was listening to him. She'd been feeling the awkwardness between her and Elliot since they'd set out on the trail. She knew that was all her fault. She didn't know what she'd been thinking back at the picnic area. Actually, she _hadn't_ been thinking, she had just been following a feeling.

What was that feeling? Probably it was one of those feelings she'd meant to nip in the bud.

* * *

It was chilly that night. Angela guessed it was somewhere in the mid-fifties. She folded her arms over her chest, trying to keep warm as she watched the campfire from the other side of the pine grove. Brent, Amy, Reggie, Darlene's friends, and Brandon and Amber all sat around it, their faces illuminated by the fire light as they chattered away. She focused on Brandon and Amber, who sat awfully close together. Whatever he was saying to her, it was apparently quite funny.

Angela's eye twitched in aggravation. She trudged past the picnic area to where they'd set up the tents. Each one was surprisingly comfortable and spacious. If this was what camping was like, Angela liked it well enough.

She slipped into Elliot and Darlene's tent, where she'd left her bag. She found the two of them on their laptops, hard at work. It was exactly what Darlene had promised her big brother.

Darlene kept stealing glances at Elliot's laptop. She raised her eyebrows, looking wildly impressed. "Damn," she mumbled. "What're you even doing?"

"What you're doing," Elliot muttered distractedly, eyes jumping all over his screen.

Darlene frowned as she typed. "You sure about that?"

"Hey, guys," Angela greeted them, though she knew they weren't paying her any attention.

A pause.

"Oh! Hey!" Darlene said finally. She looked up. "Didn't see you come in."

Angela rooted through her duffel bag until she found her tank top. She pulled it out from under a few layers of clothes and quickly changed out of her old tee.

Darlene slapped her hand over Elliot's eyes, though he'd been staring at his computer the whole time. "Elliot!" she gasped. "Were you just leering at your friend? You're such a perv! Do you wanna go to jail? _Jail?!"_

Elliot swatted her hand away so he could see his screen. "Stop," he muttered.

Darlene chuckled. "Hey, Angela, did you—?" She broke off when she saw her friend's shirt, her eyes widening and her mouth forming an "O." _"Wow."_

Angela looked at herself, then Darlene, then herself again. "What?" she asked anxiously.

Darlene's face lit up. "Oh my God, Angela! You're—"She lowered her voice. "You're trying to get lucky!"

Angela's face burned. "N-no, I'm not."

"Hey, don't lie. You're bringing the girls out for a reason! Come on!" Darlene laughed. "Seriously, I don't blame you. Like, if _I_ was Brandon's girlfriend?" She let out a breath. "Oh, the things I would do—"

 _"Stop,"_ Elliot cut her off.

Angela folded her arms with a sigh. "I-I'm not trying to—I—That's not—No."

Darlene shrugged, unconvinced. "Whatever you say, Angela," she muttered as she went back to her typing.

Angela shook her head and tried to push away her embarrassment. She fussed with the straps of her shirt a bit, feeling self-conscious after what Darlene had said. She still wanted to make sure she looked as good as she could however. _Hair down would probably be better,_ she thought. She tugged the tie out of her hair and spread her long, golden locks around her shoulders. Then she felt eyes on her again. Surely that was Darlene, with some more inappropriate comments prepared. Angela sighed and looked up, all ready to tell her to just shut up. But actually it was Elliot who was looking at her. And he was looking at her a _lot._ It took him a few moments to even realize he'd been caught. His eyes met hers, widening with sheer terror. He jerked his gaze back to his laptop, letting out a long breath.

Angela stared at the floor of the tent, trying to remember how to breathe as her heart raced. Darlene said something to her. She didn't hear what it was. _Oh, God, please tell me she didn't see any of that._ She looked up at her. "What?" she asked, once she found her voice.

Darlene raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to the campfire?" she repeated slowly and loudly.

"Y-yeah," Angela breathed. "You?"

Darlene nodded. "Me and Elliot'll head over in a bit. Right?" She nudged Elliot's shoulder.

"Mmm-hmm." He didn't look up. His face was still as red as a cooked lobster.

"All right, cool," Angela mumbled, turning to leave.

"Angela!" Darlene hissed.

"What?"

Darlene grinned. "You are gonna blow…his…mind."

"Darlene, I'm not—"

"You're my hero, Angela!"

Angela sighed and ducked out of the tent. She walked the small trail to the campfire. There was no available seat beside Brandon, so she settled for sitting where he'd probably notice her. Her boyfriend was currently absorbed in an intense conversation with Amber. Angela blew some hair out of her face in exasperation.

Reggie frowned in concern. "Aren't you cold?" he asked her.

Before Angela could answer, Brandon interrupted with a chuckle.

"She seems fine to me," he said, his eyes bright.

Angela smiled. She was grateful to Reggie for inadvertently getting his attention.

"No way!" Darlene stumbled noisily into the circle, plopping down beside Reggie. "She's freaking _covered_ in goosebumps!" she chuckled.

Angela huffed. _Thank you so much, Darlene._ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elliot take a seat beside his sister. He was still too mortified to look at her. She thought maybe later she should tell him everything's fine and not to be so embarrassed about what had happened. But maybe it was better to avoid talking about it. Talking about it would only make things more awkward. _Right?_ While Angela puzzled over what her course of action should be, someone squeezed in beside her. She lifted her head and she was nose-to-nose with Brandon.

He smiled warmly. "Don't be nervous," he murmured.

Angela opened her mouth to tell him she wasn't, when suddenly he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She was far too startled to fully enjoy it. Hours of ignoring her, and then he goes and does _this?_ She struggled to remember what one was supposed to do when being kissed. But the kiss was too brief for her to figure it out. A moment later, Brandon pulled away from her, chuckling. Angela blinked her eyes open, feeling a bit dazed.

"Wh-what was—?" she started.

Brandon snorted. "Oh, Amber was just saying I don't know how to kiss." His gaze shifted to Amber. "Guess I proved you wrong!"

"I guess so!" Amber giggled.

Then Brandon got up and went back to sit beside her. Angela stared blankly at the spot where he'd been, completely frozen. She could barely process what had just happened. It was awful. Her first real kiss was just her boyfriend putting on a show for a girl he clearly liked more. And everyone had seen it: a couple of people she barely knew and her two best friends, who probably knew exactly what was going on. Angela looked up, morbidly curious about their reactions.

Reggie shook his head, confused.

Darlene glared daggers at Brandon.

Only Elliot looked at her, his brows crumpled and his mouth a hard line. He was nearly as upset as she was. She knew that look: he wanted to say something, probably to Brandon. As usual though, he remained silent.

Angela stayed quiet too. She stared at the ground and just listened to everyone. Reggie seemed to be getting along well with Darlene's friends. Brent and Amy were very into each other. Amber and Brandon joked and chuckled and enjoyed each other's company so very much. Eventually, Elliot and Darlene left. Angela thought it would be a good time to do the same.

She trailed behind them a bit, her eyes on the moonlit lake. She wished she was in a less terrible mood, so she could appreciate the beauty of it more. By the time she made it to Elliot and Darlene's tent, they were already back on their laptops.

Angela kneeled beside her bag with a sigh. The only sounds were her friends typing and the muffled chirps of crickets.

Then Darlene said, "So, umm, what the hell was all that back there?"

Angela said nothing and angrily zipped up her bag. She dragged her stuff to the tent's opening, eyes on the floor.

"Angela, are you okay?" Darlene asked in an uncommonly gentle tone.

"Yeah," she replied, but her voice sounded worn.

"Angela?" Elliot murmured.

She stopped and whipped around, shocked that he'd said anything. He blinked at her with his mouth just the slightest bit open, his internal struggle to find words obvious. "Yeah?" she said softly.

Elliot stared at her a moment more. Then his eyes went to his laptop. "G-good night," he stammered.

Angela felt even heavier with disappointment. "Good night," she mumbled. She slipped out into the cold night air, pulling her bag behind her, and went to her tent. She dropped her bag then laid her head on it, too tired to bother unpacking anything.

Angela stared up at the tent's ceiling. After what had happened tonight, she couldn't believe she'd ever felt even the slightest bit guilty. What had she done, really? She'd done nothing wrong, she told herself. Brandon certainly had though. He was the one who needed to apologize for all the things he'd done since the trip started. And he'd better do it soon.

Because right now, they were on thin ice.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
**

Angela couldn't help but feel that Emanuel was disinterested, distracted. She didn't know what his problem could be. She'd done the ditzy drunk girl routine well enough, hadn't she? Maybe it was just that they were making out by the bathrooms, which she had to agree was not the most pleasant place for that activity. She pulled away from him, hand still tangled in his hair.

She frowned and asked in her sweetest voice, "What's wrong?"

Emanuel squinted worriedly. "It's just, uhh," he panted. "H-how out of it are you right now?"

Angela plastered a smile on her face. _I can't fucking believe this._ "I'm fine," she replied evenly. "Really."

Emanuel's eyes glistened as he gazed at her. He puffed out a breath of relief. "All right. Just don't want us to be doing things you won't remember."

Angela's smile was genuine this time. Finally they were on the same page. She felt a tinge of annoyance as once again the men's room door behind her creaked open then slammed shut.

Emanuel let out a quiet sigh.

Angela drummed her fingers on his chest. "How far is your place?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7  
**

Angela awoke to blinding sunlight pouring through the cheap vinyl of her tent. She sat up with a tired groan, massaging her stiff neck. She regretted sleeping in such an awkward position. It looked to be pretty late in the morning, judging by the sun. What time was it? She quickly threw on a change of clothes, unzipped her tent, and stumbled outside, blinking hard as the sun hit her in the face. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see that everyone was milling around by the picnic area. Everyone except—

"Hey!"

Angela jumped and whipped around to see Brandon jogging over to her from the lake's edge. Just looking at him, she felt anger boiling in her stomach. He smiled. She didn't. "Hey," she muttered.

Brandon's smile faded. His eyes darted between her and the ground. "I'm sorry—I-I mean for the kiss thing."

Angela's eyes widened in shock.

"It was weird," Brandon went on. "And I felt weird about it, right after I did it. I'm sorry."

He reached out to grab her hand, but Angela took a hurried step back from him. "Do you like Amber?" she blurted.

Brandon shook his head. "No. No. She—" He cleared his throat. "I guess…maybe I see why you would think that. I've known her a long, _long_ time, and I haven't seen her for a while, ya know? And…I-I just really missed her. And, umm…." He grimaced. "Yeah, I've kinda been blowing you off a bit," he muttered. "I'm sorry about that too."

Angela could barely believe her ears. He'd always seemed too proud a person to apologize, especially this profusely. He tried to hold her hand again, and this time she let him.

Brandon gazed at her, his dark eyes glistening. "I'm sorry," he repeated. He smiled. "We okay?"

Angela studied his face. As far as she could tell, he was quite sincere. She felt herself smiling back. "We're okay," she murmured.

Brandon's gaze shifted to her mouth. "Can I kiss you? For real this time?"

Angela responded with a slow nod. When their lips met, she felt a prickle of anxiety. She still didn't know how to kiss properly. She moved her mouth in some certain way that didn't feel quite right. When he pulled away, she sighed and considered apologizing.

"What's wrong?" Brandon asked.

So they were just going to avoid talking about her terrible kissing skills then. That was fine by her. "It's nothing," Angela told him.

Brandon jerked his head towards the picnic area. "We're all going to the general store. You wanna come?"

"Absolutely."

"Weather's good today. Perfect for swimming."

Angela looked out over the lake, which looked quite inviting, its waves lapping at the shore and its surface silvery with sunlight. The island caught her eye yet again. There was nothing there but a few boulders and pine trees, but it was awfully pretty. "Do you think we could swim to that island?" she asked.

Brandon snorted. "I mean, yeah, you _could._ Do you _want_ to?"

Angela gave him a look. "Yes, I do."

"You're weird," Brandon chuckled.

Angela rolled her eyes and took his hand as they went to join the others.

The walk to the general store was a pleasant one. Massive pines crowded the road, keeping them from roasting in the late morning sun. Hardly any cars passed them the whole walk. Not only a good thing because it made their travels all the more relaxing, but also because the road through this area was decrepit. Angela narrowly avoided twisting her ankle in a pothole one too many times. She moved away from the treacherous edge of the road, giving Brandon's hand a tight squeeze.

The two had walked together the whole way, holding hands. Brandon told Angela stories of adventures and misadventures he'd had around the town when he was younger. Angela recounted tales of her childhood as well. She tried not to talk about her mom too much. Talking about her still made her heart ache. Brandon didn't know the story. He didn't know that her mother had passed, or how it had happened. Angela wasn't about to dive into that story right then. It wasn't the right time. It would inevitably come up at some point, and she dreaded having to explain things to Brandon. There were only three people who really, truly understood what she was going through, and none of them were her boyfriend.

Brent glanced back at them. He too was holding hands with his girlfriend. Reggie and Amber walked beside them, for some reason unaware that they should give the couple a little space to themselves. "Almost there!" Brent called.

Angela nodded. That was good to hear. They had been walking for quite a bit. She looked behind her to see how everyone else was fairing. She immediately regretted that decision. Darlene and her friends were back to their usual insanity.

"This road sucks!" Darlene shouted, hefting a chunk of pavement and chucking it into the road. She hadn't been trying to hit her friend, but she'd come pretty close to doing so nonetheless. It didn't take long for her two friends to join in and toss around a few blocks of the road themselves.

Elliot walked just ahead of them, watching the craziness with a look of horror. He was responsible for his sister and her friends. The last thing he wanted was to have to take them to some Podunk hospital, especially because of something this ridiculous. "Guys, stop that," he ordered, raising his voice over their shouting, which sounded like a real strain for him.

"Stop that," Darlene mocked, but she did as she was told, as did her now downcast friends.

The general store turned out to be an old cabin. It looked like it needed to be repainted about a decade ago. Its walls were peeling and paint chips littered the spacious porch. Still it was quaint in its dilapidated way. Angela noticed a mail slot to the left of the door. This town was so tiny that the store doubled as a post office.

Brent and Amy climbed the creaking stairs to the porch. "You guys wait here," Amy said quickly as she and her boyfriend went through the screen door.

Angela was at a loss as to why they couldn't all go inside. A few minutes later, when the two returned with three boxes of beer cans, she understood. She recalled the conversation she'd had with her father. She felt a swell of pride knowing that she'd have no trouble keeping her promise. She wasn't like other teenagers.

Darlene hovered around Brent and Amy like a mosquito, eyeing the beer. "Woah! Score!" she hissed.

Brent shot Darlene a stern look, which made her instantly deflate. She knew what was coming next. "You can't have any, okay? You're way too young."

Darlene scoffed. "So you and your girlfriend are just gonna hog it all?"

"No, of course not," Brent replied. He grunted as he hauled two of the boxes down the steps. His girlfriend eyed him warily as she lugged the third box. "I'm saving some of these for my buddies. They're gonna be comin' up to camp next week." He ambled over to Elliot, who jerked his head up, startled by his sudden proximity. "Can you grab one of these, please? I mean unless—I-I donno. Are you strong enough to—?"

Elliot nodded quickly and took one of the boxes from him.

Angela's face lit up. _He's_ definitely _strong enough_. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of those kinds of thoughts, then pretended to be very interested in a nearby tree instead. _Stop it, stop it, stop it._

"Elliot can drink," Brent said. "He's eighteen. We'll go by the old drinking age, which I think kinda makes more sense, am I right?"

"Dammit!" Darlene cursed, punching her brother's shoulder. "You suck!"

They made their way back to the camp, the sun growing ever hotter as the hours passed. Angela kept on holding Brandon's hand, and they kept on talking.

At one point, Brandon glanced around, checking if anyone was in earshot, then whispered to Angela, "Hey, if you want beer, I can sneak you some. My friend used to do that for me, so I know—"

"No," Angela snapped.

Brandon shushed her. "Okay, fine," he hissed. "Never mind."

Angela sighed at his ridiculous offer. Her father had only given her two rules for this trip. She wasn't about to break one of them.

* * *

Brandon was certainly right about the weather. By midday it was sweltering. A perfect day for a swim.

Angela put on her swimsuit and joined the others at the lake. Brent and Amy and Reggie were already in the water. Elliot sat on the dock watching them. Brandon and Amber were suspiciously absent. Angela tried to push away a prickle of jealousy. There was nothing going on between them, Brandon had said as much. And she believed him.

Angela stood on the warm, sandy shore, enjoying the feeling of sand squishing between her toes. She tentatively lowered her foot into the water. It was refreshingly cool. She was about to jump in, when a sudden rush of fear held her back. She scolded herself for being so ridiculous, but still she worried about the turtles and whatever other potentially dangerous creatures lurked in the lake's depths.

"Don't worry about the turtles!" Brent called, as if reading her mind.

Angela smiled at him to let him know she was fine. Even so she was putting off swimming for just a little bit. She walked out onto the dock, trying to think about the nice kind of turtles, like the ones from _Finding Nemo._ She knew that was a stupid thought, but it did put her mind at ease.

Elliot glanced up at her. "Hey."

"Hey. You going in the lake?" Angela asked.

Elliot nodded, his eyes locked on the water.

Angela wondered if he too was wary of lake creatures. She studied him as she walked down the dock, trying to figure it out. Most likely he was as nervous as she was. The only body of water they'd ever been in was the town pool. A pool was very different from a lake and then suddenly Angela forgot about all that and wondered when she'd last seen Elliot with his shirt off. It must have been a long time ago, because he didn't have all these muscles back then. He was—

Angela felt someone grab her arm and suddenly she was being pulled backward. She stumbled a little trying to regain her balance.

"Holy crap!" Darlene laughed. "What the hell was _that?_ You were _totally_ spacing out super hard!" When Angela didn't respond, she shrugged and went to join her friends at the start of the dock.

Angela blinked in confusion. She slowly turned around to see that she was teetering right on the edge of the dock. She'd nearly walked right off it while staring at her friend, like some idiot frat-boy in an eighties comedy. That must have looked _very_ attractive.

One of Darlene's friends leaped off the dock. Her other friend skidded to a halt at the edge. Darlene charged towards her, showing no signs of slowing down.

"Jump!" she screeched. "Come on, jump! Don't be such a pussy!" Darlene shoved her friend into the water and jumped in after her. She surfaced a moment later with a hard cough. "Cold!" she shouted dramatically at the sky. "It's so cold!"

Angela chuckled at the three of them as they swam out farther, pinwheeling their arms and splashing each other. She felt the boards shifting underfoot and turned to see Elliot standing beside her. He glanced at her with a flash of mischief in his eyes that Angela had not seen for many years. "What?" she asked quietly. "What are you thinking about?"

Elliot blinked at her, startled. "Uhh…n-nothing."

Angela looked him up and down. "Were you thinking about pushing me off the dock?"

"No," Elliot said, but Angela caught just a shadow of a smile on his face.

She rolled her eyes. "If you say so." Angela smiled slyly. She hoped Elliot had no idea what was about to happen to him. Angela slapped a hand on his back and shoved him with all her might. He stumbled a bit, but he didn't fall. Either he was too strong, or he'd seen the attack coming. He retaliated immediately and pushed her into the lake.

When Angela popped out of the water a moment later, she heard Darlene cackling, asking her friends if they'd seen what had happened. Angela spun around. Elliot floated just under the dock, trying to suppress a laugh.

Angela shook her head. "Really?"

"Yep," Elliot said. He swam over to her, looking slightly concerned. "You okay?"

"Fine," Angela replied curtly. She thought she should act at least a little upset, but she couldn't stop smiling. Her face felt warm. She tried not to look at him too much as she wrung out her hair. While she was doing that, a load of water smacked her in the back of the head, completely drenching her. She turned to Elliot, her eyes narrowed. He just smiled at her. Angela splashed him back. "What's your problem?" she chuckled.

"Umm…" Elliot backed away from her and swam farther out.

Angela smirked. If he thought he could get away from her by going where the water was deeper, he was dead wrong. She shot over to Elliot and splashed him a few more times in revenge.

Elliot let out a small chuckle. "Stop," he mumbled, swatting her hands away.

 _"You_ stop." Angela smacked his hand hard.

Elliot sighed lightly and grabbed her wrist. Then he splashed her again when she was caught off guard.

Angela flipped her soaked hair out of her face. She shook her head at him in an admittance of defeat. But she didn't say anything. Elliot still stood at attention, one hand poised to splash her if need be, the other still gripping her wrist. She should probably just say that was enough, or anything to that effect. She didn't. She floated there, smiling, and Elliot smiled back. They were very close. At this point Angela's mind had turned to molten mush. She felt Elliot loosen his grip on her wrist just a little. He ran his thumb over the inside of her wrist as he finally let go of her. Angela waited for him to move away. He didn't. But she didn't move either. It occurred to her that she probably should. At some point.

Angela heard voices coming from the shore and turned. Amber had just arrived. And so had Brandon. Angela felt sick. What was she doing? Things had been going so well with him that day. Then he leaves for a few minutes and she goes and does…whatever it was she had been doing. _What's wrong with me?_ Angela felt a powerful stab of guilt. She left Elliot and quickly swam towards the shore.

Brandon smiled at her. "Hey, what's up?"

Angela smiled back, hoping she was doing a good job of hiding her inner turmoil. "Hey, you wanna go to the island?" she asked him.

Amber glanced in the direction of the island. "Seems a bit far," she commented.

"Not if you're a good swimmer, sis," Amy told her.

"It's true," Brent agreed.

Brandon snorted. "Can't believe she's still on this," he chuckled, like Angela wasn't even there. He turned back to his girlfriend. "Sure you can't go by yourself? Or, I donno, maybe you'd rather go with Elliot?"

Angela's face burned. Had he seen what had happened a few moments ago? No, he couldn't have. Of course not. Anyway, she shouldn't be so worried. It was nothing. If Brandon thought it was something then that was his problem. "I'd really rather go with you," she replied in her sweetest tone.

"All right, I'll go," Brandon sighed. "I'll get there before you, though. I'm a way better swimmer." He took a deep breath, then dove into the water and rocketed towards the island.

Angela rolled her eyes and swam after him at her own pace. She found that Darlene and her friends had swam out pretty far. Darlene was commenting about how it was much colder closer to the center of the lake. Elliot joined the three of them, looking uneasy. Angela guessed he didn't like them being so far from the shore; it was much deeper here, and probably Darlene and her buddies weren't the best swimmers.

Darlene turned on her brother, glaring. "What's your problem?" she snapped. "We don't need a babysitter! Get lost!" She flailed her arms, sending torrents of water into his face. Her two friends, as usual, followed her lead.

Angela snorted in amusement and kept on swimming. The island wasn't far now. Brandon stood on the shore, tapping his foot impatiently. Angela ignored him. The boughs of the island's two towering pines swayed in the breeze, bathing the air with their scent. Angela got out of the water and stepped onto the grassy shore. In contrast to the light, fluffy sand of the camp's shore, this one was made up of hard, chunky clay.

Brandon sighed in mock annoyance. "Took you long enough."

"Shut up," Angela scoffed. She sat down and looked out over the lake. Brent and Amy were a fair distance from the others, canoodling. Reggie and Amber stayed closer to the shore. Darlene and her friends had given up on trying to drown Elliot, and begrudgingly allowed him to stay nearby.

Angela realized she must have been staring at Elliot for far too long again. He'd caught her. Now he was staring back at her, giving her an inquisitive look. Well, this was a teeny bit awkward. Angela smiled and gave a small wave. There, an excellent recovery. She noticed Brandon sitting down beside her with a contented sigh.

"It is really nice out here," he commented.

Angela met his gaze. "Yeah, it is." When Brandon turned away from her to look out at the shore, she immediately turned back to Elliot. But he wasn't looking at her anymore. He was talking to his sister. Darlene had her arms crossed and she was shaking her head, looking curious and amused and perturbed all at the same time. Angela tensed. Darlene kept stealing glances at her and pointing at her as she talked on and on. Elliot barely said anything. He just stared at his sister with wide eyes and shook his head. Angela drew in a sharp, nervous breath and dropped her gaze. They were definitely talking about her. She desperately wanted to know what exactly Darlene was saying. Whatever it was, it was making Elliot quite uncomfortable.

Angela dug her fingers into the sand in frustration and embarrassment. She wished she could just disappear for a while.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8  
**

Angela had grown bored of staring up at the ceiling. She broke out of her trance and took another glance around the room, though there wasn't much to see, even if the lights were on. Emanuel's place was exquisite. It was a rather large apartment, much like hers. The major difference was the lack of a lived-in feel. His apartment was sparsely decorated, and strangely lacking in very many personal possessions. It was like a model home.

Emanuel's obnoxious snoring interrupted Angela's analysis. She sighed heavily. On the walk over, she had estimated that it would take approximately fifteen minutes to walk back to her apartment. It would take half that time for her to fall asleep. That's probably what she should have done to begin with: just walk home, go to sleep, and forgo this awkward situation. Now she had to sneak out of this odd place to avoid having to talk to the guy. The momentary rush of hormones to numb her mind was maybe not worth the awkwardness.

Angela groped around the sheets for her clothes and attempted to get dressed without disturbing him. She had just put her feet on the floor when Emanuel stirred behind her. She suppressed a groan and moved to sit at the end of the bed. If she had to talk to him, she at least wanted to do it at a distance. She really didn't care for him. He seemed dim.

Emanuel dragged himself out of the covers with a grunt and sat up. His smile was just barely perceivable in the dark. "Hey," he said, in a cracking, half-awake voice.

"Hey. I'm sorry, I wish I could stay longer," Angela said, fighting to sound sincere, "but I _really_ have to go. I have an early day tomorrow and my job is super important."

"Right." Emanuel yawned. "E-Corp."

"Yeah. I'm sure you understand."

Emanuel squinted curiously. "Why are you so sure I understand?"

Angela blinked at him. "Because…you work there too?" She breathed out a frustrated chuckle. What was his problem? Angela sat very still as Emanuel kept on staring at her through narrowed eyes. She felt like she was under a microscope.

"I never said that," Emanuel reminded her, his voice now sounding very clear and awake.

Angela frowned. She thought back to the conversation they'd had at the bar. To her recollection, he was correct. She had just assumed he worked there, given that the majority of the customers of Green Neon were E-Corp.

Emanuel turned to look out his wide window. The nighttime cityscape was awash with bright and beautiful colors. "Pretty crazy, what happened. 5/9, I mean. What do you think about it?" He looked at Angela again, his green gaze sharp.

Angela stared back at him, her heart beating just a little faster. He'd never given her that look before. "It's awful," she murmured. She took a much needed pause to shake her head and get him to really notice her downcast expression. "It's hard to even talk about it. But…I think it's important that we keep talking. That's how we get through this."

Emanuel smiled, his gaze turning warm and inviting. "I agree. So, how do like it at E-Corp?"

Angela plastered a smile on her face. "It's…it's all right," she said. "It's fine." It wasn't a complete lie. But she wondered why she even lied at all. Was he worth lying to? He wasn't much, nice apartment or no, and he didn't work for E-Corp. Angela was stuck in a rut of fakery. She wasn't sure when she'd last climbed out and been sincere. Darlene she hardly saw. Elliot was in jail. There was no one she could be real with. No one at all.

Angela's smile evaporated. The levee had broken, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I hate them," she murmured. "I think they're despicable. They deserved what happened to them. They deserve even more than that. Much more."

Emanuel scoffed. "Then why are you even working for them?"

Angela drew in a shaky breath. She woke up, quickly recovering from her little slip up. She wasn't foolish enough to bare her soul to him. "It's complicated," she told him evenly.

Emanuel shrugged. "If you say so."

Angela jumped to her feet. "Well, I really better go," she said, smiling politely. She thought she should probably say something else, so she forced out, "Thank you for the nice night, Emanuel."

He raised his eyebrows. "Ahh, you remembered my name."

Angela chuckled. "Did I ever forget it?"

Emanuel just rolled his eyes.

Angela made herself keep on smiling, hoping he couldn't see her blushing in the dimly lit room. "Okie dokie," she said in her dopiest voice. "Good night." She threw open the bedroom door, crossed the much too big living room to the door, and climbed down the steps to the street. The night air was refreshingly chilly. She walked fast, glaring down at the sidewalk as she rushed home.

 _Never again._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9  
**

That night was just as cold as the last. Luckily they had a roaring campfire to keep them warm. Everyone was in good spirits. Brent and Amy were as giggly and love-drunk as ever. Darlene and her buddies, along with Reggie and Amber, were greatly enjoying each other's company. Best of all, Brandon was where he was supposed to be: sitting next to Angela, his arm around her shoulders.

Angela was trying not to look at Elliot so much, her guilt still eating away at her. But she had noticed the state he was in. He was the only one there not in a good mood. He stared at the dirt, shifting uncomfortably and wringing his hands, looking downright miserable. Perhaps it was his anxiety. Angela had done her research, as she was wont to do: when it came to mental disorders, there were good days and bad days. Angela wanted desperately to talk to him, but she knew better than to do that in front of everyone. He didn't want his issues broadcast to the whole camp. He could work through it on his own, as he usually did. Angela had promised herself she'd stop obsessing over him so much anyway. She was supposed to be spending time with her boyfriend. She shifted closer to Brandon and he ran his fingertips over her shoulder. That felt nice, but not nearly as nice as Angela expected it to.

 _I'm just nervous,_ Angela reasoned. _I've never really had all those…"warm and fuzzy" feelings with someone, so I'm probably just having trouble…recognizing them._

Then that quiet voice in the back of her mind was suddenly very loud. _Liar._

"I'm back!" Brent's shout interrupted Angela's anxious thoughts. She hadn't even noticed he'd left. He'd returned with a cooler, filled with some of the beer he'd bought earlier. Brent barely had a chance to get a can for himself when suddenly Elliot was in front of him.

Brent smiled. "Hey, you want one?" He tossed a can to Elliot, who caught it and briskly returned to his seat without a word.

Darlene stared forlornly at her brother's drink. "Aww! Can I have just, like, just one little sip? Or a couple? Please? Just one little sip! Come on, Elliot!"

Elliot cracked open the can. He didn't look at her. "No," he snapped. His patience for her pestering and annoying behavior had completely evaporated at this point.

Angela gazed at him worriedly as he practically inhaled his beer. Had he ever drank before? _He's going to make himself sick,_ she fretted. _Maybe I—_ She felt Brandon's lips brush over her ear and the thought drifted away from her.

"You wanna get outta here?" he whispered.

Angela grinned. "Yeah, sure," she murmured. Brandon grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet, and the two made their way down the trail. Angela stole one last glance at Elliot. He'd just let his beer can drop to the ground. It was empty. Angela tried not to let that bother her.

"Hey," Brandon said. "You _sure_ you don't want a beer?"

"No," Angela huffed. She didn't want to think any more about alcohol.

Brandon stared intently at her. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure," she snapped.

"Okay, okay," Brandon muttered. "Geez. You got alcohol problems in your family or something?"

"It's not that," Angela sighed. "I promised my dad that I wouldn't drink."

"Daddy's little girl," Brandon snickered.

Angela ripped her hand from his grip and smacked his shoulder. "Shut up," she chuckled.

Brandon raked his gaze over her, eyes glistening. "Do you always do everything your parents tell you?"

Angela raised her eyebrows. "Pretty much. What's wrong with that?"

Brandon shrugged and took her hand again. "I guess nothing, but…I mean, come on. If you always listen to them, you'll never have any fun. I bet you've broken the rules more than you'll admit."

Angela smiled, her heart beating just a bit faster. "Really?" she said softly. "You think so?"

"Yes. I'm not falling for the whole good girl routine."

Angela rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't say it's a routine."

Brandon just snorted.

The two stood on the shore, gazing out at the moonlit lake. All around them the crickets and cicadas sang, their late-summer symphonies deafeningly loud. Angela rested her head on Brandon's shoulder, because she'd seen that done so many times in the movies. It was so perfect. Just standing there with him, enjoying his company and the beautiful nature that surrounded them. They didn't need to say anything—or so Angela thought.

"Wanna go to my tent?" Brandon asked hurriedly, shattering the peaceful silence.

Angela lifted her head off his shoulder and looked at him. He stared back at her, eyes darting frantically. "Well…why?" she asked. "It's really nice out here."

"Y-yeah, umm—" Brandon stammered, bobbing his head slightly as he searched for words. "Just thought, you know, it would be nice there, too…" He smiled hopefully.

Angela smiled back. She had to admit he was very cute when he gave her that look. "Okay," she agreed finally.

Brandon's eyes lit up. "All right then, let's go." He squeezed Angela's hand tightly as they walked through the grove. "You know, you don't need to play coy all night," he muttered.

Angela blinked at him. "Umm, what?"

Brandon smiled. "Nothing," he said lightly. "Calm down."

Angela snorted. She waited for Brandon to unzip his tent then slipped in after him. It was just the same as her tent: spacious and warm and comfy. Perhaps even more so, because he'd actually laid out his sleeping bag. She sat there quietly and looked around while he zipped the tent back up. She noticed his Game Boy peeking out from his bag. She took it out and checked the cartridge inside. "I think one of Darlene's friends has the same game," she said. "It's got that orange dragon on it too."

Brandon sat beside her, his shoulder pressed against hers. "Oh, yeah? Cool," he said distractedly.

Angela turned the device around in her hands, examining it. "So, is this your fa—?" She broke off when Brandon plucked the Game Boy from her hands and threw it onto his bag. She shot him an inquisitive look. He was smiling at her, a bit unsure but still quite serene. "Wha—?"

"Do you _really_ wanna talk about video games all night?" Brandon asked, his voice soft.

Angela shook her head in confusion. "Wha—?" She scoffed. "Well, we can talk about something else if you want. What do _you_ want to talk about?"

Brandon leaned closer to her. "We don't have to talk about anything," he murmured.

They were nose-to-nose now. Angela smiled as she felt his warm breath on her face. She wanted to kick herself for being so dense. He wanted to kiss her, of course. Hopefully she'd be better at the whole kissing thing this time. Just as she began to lean in, Brandon grabbed her face and pressed his lips to hers. Angela froze, so startled by how rough he was she didn't even think to kiss him back. This was far from the gentle, tentative kiss they'd shared on the shore a little while ago. This was the aggressively passionate sort of making out, the kind that happened in the movies before the camera cut away from the couple to give them some privacy. Angela knew she wasn't nearly as excited by this as he was. Especially now that Brandon's hands had left her face and had begun to wander. She pulled away from him and he sighed loudly. "Okay," she breathed. "That's enough." Her heart pounded as Brandon rolled his eyes. That was not the reaction she'd expected. Had he even heard what she'd said? "Let's not do that anymore," she said slowly.

Brandon sighed again, thoroughly exasperated. "Okay, come on, cut it out."

Angela gritted her teeth. "Excuse me?"

"You don't need to act like you don't—"

"What the hell is your—?"

"Just stop it, all right?"

Angela felt a rush of anger. She was really about to give it to him when he shot forward and forced their mouths together. And now his hands were really where they shouldn't be. This situation had gone from aggravating to frightening very fast. Angela shoved him so hard he fell over. He stared up at her in wide-eyed shock, like she'd gone mad. That look enraged her even more. She stared him down for a heartbeat then scrambled to unzip the tent. She fumbled with the zipper for a moment, her hands shaking, before she finally got it open. She shot out and stalked away into the grove. She didn't even know where she was going. She just wanted to be as far away from Brandon as possible. She heard his fast, clumsy footsteps just behind her.

Brandon heaved an annoyed sigh. "Angela, wait a—"

Angela stopped and reeled around, her heart thundering in her ears. "Stay away from me!" she snapped.

Brandon shushed her. "Look, can you just—just calm down and stop treating me like a rapist?"

Angela was livid. "You said it, not me."

Brandon let out a frustrated chuckle. "What's wrong with you? Why'd you even come on this trip?"

Angela shook her head in shock. "I came on this trip to get to know you better," she replied slowly and evenly. "That's what you said we'd be doing."

"Yeah, and I meant it. What do you think we were doing back there? That's what couples do, Angela."

"What? We—" Angela spluttered. "We haven't even been together that long! And you _never_ told me you wanted to go on this trip just so we could—"

Brandon interrupted her with a scoff. "Holy shit. You are such a prude."

Angela clenched her fists. All she wanted to do was punch him. She didn't even know what stopped her. Her words certainly had no effect on him. "You don't care about me at all, you never did," she said finally. "You just wanted to go on this trip so you could hang out with your dopey brother and Amber—who you absolutely like by the way. You're such a terrible liar. I have to give you credit though: you did a good job smoothing things over just enough so you'd still get to screw me by the end of the weekend!" She breathed heavily, her eyes narrowed. Brandon stared back at her, stone-faced. "You are a sociopath."

Brandon was silent a moment. Then he said, "You done?"

Angela scoffed.

 _"I_ don't care about _you?"_ Brandon snapped. "Other way around. You think I'm just so obsessed with Amber. Open your eyes, Angela: you are projecting," he said slowly. "You wanna screw your best friend so bad you can't even think straight."

Angela's face burned. "No, I don't," she said through her teeth.

"Oh, please. Before we even got to the camp, when we were in the diner, you were giving him some pretty interesting looks."

"Th-that's not—"

"Then as soon as we got to camp," Brandon yelled over her, "I mean what was—? That was the most sexually-charged arm-wrestling match I've ever seen. N-not that I've seen a lot of—"

"You're imagining things," Angela cut him off.

Brandon smiled triumphantly. "And what were you guys doing in the lake, huh? Did I imagine that too?"

There it was. He'd struck the final blow. There was nothing Angela could say now. He knew exactly what had been going through her mind the whole time. She couldn't deny it anymore. She admitted it to herself, no buts and no downplaying: she wanted Elliot, so much she couldn't conceal it to save her life. All the things she'd done right in front of Brandon, her _boyfriend_ …The realization hit her like a bullet: she had no self-control. She was a child.

Brandon's gaze was sharp with contempt. "You know I've got half a mind to have a few words with Elliot, too."

Angela felt light-headed. The last thing she wanted was for him to be dragged into this. "Pl-please don't," she begged, her voice cracking and small.

Brandon stared at the ground. The fight was out of him. "Why did you even start dating me?" he asked. "Why are we even together?"

Angela sniffled. "I-I don't know," she replied honestly.

Brandon scoffed. "I donno either." He spun around and stormed off.

Rage burned in Angela's chest. He wasn't getting the last word. "We broke up because of you, not me," she declared, her voice shaky. "You're disgusting."

Brandon shot her a weary glance and kept on walking. "Fuck you," he spat.

"Fuck you too!" Angela shot back. She tore her furious gaze from him, her vision blurred with tears. She stayed by the shore, her mind reeling. She couldn't stop shaking. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, silently scolding herself for crying. She didn't know what she should do. She attempted to calm down. She adjusted the strap of her shirt and wiped her eyes again, trying to make herself look less disheveled. Her feet carried her back to the campfire. As she expected, Elliot and Darlene had gone back to their tent. No one noticed her arrival, or if they did, they were too caught up in their conversations to say anything. Brandon was the only one who noticed her, and he shot her a nasty glare. He was the only one who saw her take one of the beers from the cooler and leave just as quickly as she'd arrived. It occurred to Angela that he'd probably rat on her, but she was past the point of caring.

The beer burned her throat. Angela narrowed her eyes at the can, thoroughly fed up with everything.

Angela's stomach churned. She didn't know if it was the beer or the state she was in that was making her so queasy. She frowned. Her beer can felt much lighter. She tipped it over and just a few drips of beer fell to the dirt. She tossed it behind her with a sigh. She'd been wandering around the grove for a while. She knew she should just go back to her tent and go to sleep. Sleep would be nice. She just needed to stop thinking about everything for a while.

"Is everything okay, Angela?"

The familiar voice brought Angela out of her haze. She jerked her head up to see Darlene gazing at her, wide-eyed and worried. She was in Darlene and Elliot's tent, and the two were working away on their laptops once again.

"Fine," Angela replied hoarsely.

Darlene looked unconvinced. Nonetheless, she went back to her work. She stole glances at Elliot's screen, though she was not impressed this time, but disturbed. "Shit, Elliot," she muttered. "What's wrong with you?"

Elliot's fingers clunked clumsily over the keys, his gaze drowsy. "Nothing," he mumbled.

Darlene heaved a sigh.

Angela watched Elliot type until he looked up at her. His eyes flitted around her face. Angela knew he could tell something was wrong. She smiled faintly and ducked out of the tent. She walked quickly back to her own tent, surprised by how numb she felt. When she stopped beside her tent, she heard heavy footsteps just behind her. Her heart pounded with fear and she whipped around, expecting to see Brandon. But it was Elliot. Her panicked movement had made him jump. "Umm, hey," she murmured.

"Hey." Elliot swayed a little, his eyes bleary. He moved a little closer to Angela, eyeing her with concern. "You okay?"

Angela could tell him about the break-up. She'd just have to leave out the part about her feelings for him. It wasn't exactly relevant to the break-up anyway. "No," she confessed. "I broke up with Brandon."

A strange mix of emotions swirled in Elliot's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Angela wrapped her arms around herself tightly. She forced away memories of those few minutes in Brandon's tent. "He's…he's a creep."

Elliot's eyes were wide with alarm. "Wh-what did he do?"

"I'm fine," Angela told him hurriedly.

"What happened?" Elliot pressed.

Angela groaned. She suppressed the urge to snap at him. He wasn't the one she was upset with. "I don't want to talk about it right now," she whispered.

Elliot nodded in understanding. Still his frustration was obvious. "Okay," he said. He took a step back from her and stumbled.

Angela darted forward to grab his arm and steady him. She looked at the ground, expecting to see the root or rock that had tripped him, but there was nothing there but pine needles. He'd tripped over thin air, as she'd suspected. "Elliot, how many beers did you drink?" she asked, eyeing him anxiously. She didn't want him losing his balance again. She didn't know if she'd be so lucky in rescuing him the next time. He was bigger than her after all.

Elliot stared at his feet, either out of embarrassment or fear of falling. "I-I donno," he mumbled.

Angela snorted, half with worry and half with amusement. She realized she was still holding his arm. She reluctantly let go, watching him carefully to be sure he wouldn't stumble again.

"I think it was three," Elliot admitted with a sigh. He sniffed, his face reddening. "Honestly, I'm not that drunk. I feel kinda better than I usually do, actually."

Hearing that statement, Angela felt a cold wave of terror wash over her. Exactly how much did he enjoy this feeling? It was most likely just her anxiety running amuck, but she was having horrible visions of Elliot drinking himself to death a few years down the line.

Elliot looked her up and down. "You don't look so good."

"I'm just tired," Angela said. "And I had a beer, so, I feel a little weird." She saw Elliot about to say something and quickly added, "But I'm fine. I just need to rest. I just need to…" She sighed. "I just need to forget about this whole Brandon thing."

Elliot nodded. He started backing away, which made Angela tense, fearing he'd trip over nothing again. "You wanna be alone," he concluded.

Angela stared into his glistening eyes. "I guess."

Elliot slowed to a stop. "I could stay for a bit, if you want." He blinked at her questioningly. "Do you want that?"

"Sure," Angela replied too quickly. _Of course you want that, stop acting like you don't._

Angela enjoyed being back in her own tent, with her own sleeping bag and pack and clothes. All the disasters of the trip aside, she'd decided she liked camping quite a bit. She also decided it wasn't worth thinking about that much though. When would she ever go camping again? It was perhaps one of those things that one liked but never quite got around to doing.

Angela felt Elliot shifting next to her. They were sitting awfully close. It wasn't unlike the car ride, but this time Angela felt more at ease. Maybe admitting to herself that she liked him made things easier. She noticed him scratching his arm out of the corner of her eye. "You okay?" she asked.

"Mosquito," Elliot grumbled in response.

Angela looked at his arm, and that was when she saw it. There was a small spot near the crook of his elbow. "What is that?" she demanded. She knew. She just couldn't believe it had happened again.

"A mosquito bite," Elliot replied.

"No. _This."_ Angela pointed to the mark on his arm.

Elliot's eyes darted to it, then his attention returned to the bug bite. "That's old," he said, as though that made it insignificant.

Angela was beyond livid. She couldn't believe that a parent could ever harm her child. Elliot's mother deserved the harshest punishments available, as far as Angela was concerned. The world was unfair though, so it probably wouldn't happen in this life. That was why Angela had to believe there was a special place in Hell for a mother who put out cigarettes on her kid's arm. Angela brushed her fingertips over the rippled bit of skin.

"You deserve a better Mom," she murmured.

"You deserve to have yours back." Elliot's eyes widened. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk about-"

"No, it's okay," Angela said gently. "You're one of the few people I can talk to about this." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. "You miss your dad a lot, huh?"

Elliot drew in a shaky breath. "Yeah," he replied, so quiet Angela barely heard him.

Angela just looked at him, and he looked at her. She waited for him to say more, but he stayed silent. She changed the subject. "Do you miss Mr. Robot?"

Elliot cracked a smile. "Mr. Robot isn't a person."

Angela rolled her eyes. "I know. Do you miss Mr. Robot? The _store?"_

Elliot shrugged. "Not really. It was fun while it lasted."

Angela stared down at the tent's floor. She felt like she might cry again. She didn't even know why. Maybe because she was still rattled by what had happened earlier. But with Elliot by her side, she felt a little better. "What are you going to do after high school?" she asked. It was something she'd been wondering for a while.

"Computer stuff, probably," Elliot answered. "I don't know what exactly."

"You better figure it out very, _very_ soon," Angela teased. "You're running out of time. And you don't have a DeLorean to help you, I'm sorry to say." She patted his shoulder.

Elliot let out a small chuckle. "What about you?"

Angela sighed. "I have no idea. My dad always says that people who don't know what they want to do end up working some pointless, dead-end job in a soul-draining office."

"Then you better pick something quick. Just pick anything."

Angela snorted. Her mind wandered to thoughts of the future. Where were she and Elliot and Darlene going to be five or ten or fifteen years from now? Her worst fear was that they'd drift apart. She looked at Elliot, her gaze sharp. "Where are you going to go?"

Elliot blinked at her, startled. "What?"

"I-I mean where are you going to go for college or a job?"

Elliot smiled. "Angela, I don't know."

Angela's face felt hot. She knew she was being ridiculous. "I think maybe I'd like to go to the city," she said.

"What city?"

 _"The_ city. New York." Angela studied Elliot's face, wondering what he thought about that. He seemed lost in thought, his eyes glassy. "I know we're supposed to hate New York, but I just can't. I feel like a traitor to New Jersey."

"I heard it's really nice there," Elliot said vaguely.

Angela nodded. "Yeah."

"There's a lot of people there, though."

"Yep." Angela let the conversation fizzle out. She was avoiding talking about what was bothering her. She took Elliot's hand, slipping her fingers in between his. "I don't want us to just not be friends anymore," she blurted.

"We'll always be friends," Elliot said.

"Sometimes friends go their separate ways," Angela went on, frustrated by his childish response. "And then they don't talk anymore. That's what colleges and jobs do to friendships. People just…fall out of touch. That's reality."

Elliot said nothing as she sighed loudly. Then he repeated, more softly this time, "We'll always be friends."

His words didn't do much to comfort Angela. But they were very sweet words. She squeezed his hand and laid her head on his shoulder. She paid close attention to his reaction, but he didn't flinch like she'd expected him to. He was perfectly calm. Angela frowned in confusion. He was normally so stressed when people touched him. Maybe he was just trying to hide his discomfort for her benefit. Angela lifted her head.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Am I making you nervous?" As she began to let go of Elliot's hand, she felt his fingers tighten around hers.

"No," he told her.

Angela smiled. She thought for sure she was dreaming.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10  
**

 _Boredom. That was what I felt the most in that place, at least for those first few days. But boredom was better than the alternatives. Anxiety. Lost time. I think it's all starting to get to him. He still never stops talking but right now he's foggier than he's ever been. This place is making him lose it._

Elliot laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind mostly blank. Mr. Robot laid on the floor, singing under his breath.

 ** _"Sixty-six bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-six bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, sixty-five bottles of beer on the wall._** **I'm bored of this song, all right?"** he snapped, like it was Elliot's fault. **"Hey, it's fine. I've got a million of 'em."** He sat up with a grunt, crossing his legs in front of him. " **You remember that really old song? It was by, uhh, that, uhh** — **"** He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to get the name to come to him **—"Ahh, that's right!"** He pointed to Elliot. **"You remember her. Christine or Carly or Charlie or something with a 'C.' Anyway, it's Five and Dime. Remember? Why am I asking? I** ** _know_** **you remember. Sing it with me."**

Elliot shook his head.

Mr. Robot drummed on his knees and sang, this time much less quietly. **_"Take me down to the five and dime, it's five o' five so you know it's time! Hop in the Cadillac and off we go! You get some candy and I'll get pop! Fun at the five and dime, it just doesn't stop! Muh doggy's ears out the window go flop flop flop, while I'm sittin' in the back drinkin' pop pop pop! Next day comes and we'll go back again! Oh, five and dime, you're my very best friend!"_**

Elliot closed his eyes, exasperated.

Mr. Robot sighed happily. **"Classic. I know, it's not the best. They tried to rhyme 'friend' with 'again.' Amateur hour. That thing used to drive you crazy, remember? Used to play on that one channel about a hundred times every summer."**

Summer. Elliot's mind wandered when he heard that word. It meant mostly calm and careless and good times when he was young. Like that day he and Darlene and Angela played with that Frisbee—

 **"No!"** Mr. Robot spat, breaking into his thoughts. **"Quit it with the Frisbee memory! I'm sick to god-damn death of it!"**

Elliot puffed out a sigh. There was one summer, he recalled, when he went on a camping trip. The time he spent with Angela on that trip was what he remembered most vividly. He felt warm all over just thinking about it.

Mr. Robot scoffed. **"Stop.** ** _Stop._** **I don't wanna hear that. Cool off, Nora Roberts."**

Elliot did his best to ignore him and his mind drifted back to that summer again. On the camping trip he'd learned he really liked alcohol. He'd drank four beers—or was it five? He didn't like the beer so much for its taste, but for what it did to him. For a while afterwards, he obsessed over when and how he'd be able to get more. That night, he'd felt more relaxed than he thought was possible. He didn't even feel squirmy or anxious when Angela touched him. In fact he liked it. Then she'd stopped, which had frustrated him greatly.

"I'm sorry," she'd said. "Am I making you nervous?"

He'd immediately told her she wasn't, and he'd held her hand. At that point in his life, Elliot had never felt such a rush as when she'd turned to him, her eyes staring into his and occasionally wandering to his mouth.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Angela had whispered, and Elliot could feel her warm breath on his face.

What the hell kind of question was that to ask him? She might as well have asked if he was actually a kangaroo disguised as a human being. What did she expect the answer to be? "No," he'd told her.

He remembered Angela smiling sweetly, her eyes glistening. She'd smelled like smoke and cheap beer. She'd leaned in just a little closer and—

Mr. Robot's face appeared in front of him, his eyes narrowed. He'd been flickering just a second ago, but now he seemed more solid. **"What are you doing?"** he demanded, shaking his head in disapproval. **"Don't even think about rubbing one out! I am** ** _not_** **going offline right now!"**

Elliot hadn't been thinking of doing that. But now that he'd brought it up, it sounded like a good idea. He was bored and there was nothing better to do.

Mr. Robot grimaced and moved away from him. **"What is with you? You need to focus, kiddo! Yeah, I know, stress and boredom and bull and shit but come on! I'll admit it, sometimes** ** _—sometimes—_** **I also just wanna have sexy daydreams about our favorite blondie, but that's—"** He sighed at Elliot's shocked expression. **"Don't give me that look! How many times do I have to say it, huh? We're the same! Different but the same. Same brain same urges same dick same memories…same hair** ** _—sadly_** **. Same same same. The reason your life is as terrible as it is? You won't accept that!"** He paced back and forth, shaking his head. **"Do you see where we are right now? Oh, that's right, you** ** _don't._** **You're off in fantasy land again. Well, vacation's over. Pack your shit because we gotta take a drive back to reality."** He spread his arms wide and spun around, gesturing to the room. **"Look around you! We've got whopping, meaty problems in here** ** _and_** **on the outside! And it's about time we start thinking about what our next step is, right?"** He nodded vigorously, trying to get a response out of Elliot. **_"Right?"_**

Elliot looked at him for a moment longer. Then he stared up at the ceiling again.

Mr. Robot groaned. **"You know, sometimes I wish I could unplug from you."**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11  
**

Angela spent the next day in a fog. She hardly spoke to anyone. Her mind was a hurricane of emotions. She bounced between rattled, depressed, and a powerful sort of embarrassment that was the most constant of all her current feelings.

The morning was dull. All they did was pack their things into Brent's van. Brent also wanted them to pack stuff he needed for another camp his family owned. Brent asked the favor in his usual chipper manner, with a grin and a chuckle. Angela was having none of it while in her terrible mood. He was just using them. Angela was struck by the sobering realization that neither Brandon nor his older brother were as nice as they seemed.

Angela sat between Darlene and the door again on the ride home. Last night she had pondered Brandon's question. Why _had_ she started dating him? Finally she had an answer.

She'd never felt that strongly about him. He was nice enough. They talked quite a bit. They had a lot of classes together.

 _Convenience._

Angela was the one who suggested they be boyfriend and girlfriend. That was around the time she _really_ started looking at Elliot differently, and her feelings were becoming impossible to ignore. But she couldn't date _Elliot,_ of course not. He was her best friend. She couldn't risk ruining things. She knew it was clichéd, but it was the truth. To go from a couple of friends who'd known each other so long to a couple was a big change, and one she was terrified to make. Even now she felt the same way, even after what had happened the night before. So, she'd started dating Brandon to avoid acknowledging her feelings. He was there, he already liked her, so she had used him.

 _Avoidance._

The ride home went by in a flash. Brent's van jerked to a halt in front of Elliot and Darlene's house, and the two got out. Angela climbed out of the van as well to help them with their bags. Unlike before, Brent didn't lift a finger. She supposed he was done being helpful, since they'd already served their purpose by loading his crap into the van.

Darlene dragged her bags across the yard with pained grunts and groans. Angela had offered to help, but she'd insisted she could do it herself.

Elliot didn't seem to be having too much trouble with his bags. He hung back, staring at Angela, looking like he desperately wanted to say something.

Angela looked him in the eye for the first time in a number of hours. She didn't feel quite as mortified as she thought she would. She wondered for how long they were going to avoid talking about the night before. She realized how on edge she was when Elliot started to speak and she almost jumped out of her skin.

"See you later," he said simply.

Angela gave a tight smile. "Yep. So…" She tried to say something more, but no words came out. She didn't even know what she wanted to say.

Elliot nodded. He was no longer looking at her. "Okay," he muttered. He trudged to his house without another word.

Angela climbed back into the van with a heavy sigh. Now things between them were more awkward than they'd ever been. Was this what it would be like from now on? _I've ruined everything._

Angela didn't even notice they had parked in front of her house until Brent said something. She said thanks to Brent, even though she didn't want to at this point. She said goodbye to Reggie, and as usual he got all hot and bothered just because she'd spoken to him. She said nothing to Brandon, and continued to not even acknowledge his existence.

Angela retrieved her bag and crossed the small yard to her home. She found her dad in the foyer, sifting through the mail. On the living room table behind him sat a number of empty beer bottles. Some of his friends had been here recently.

He glanced up at her. "Hey, how was the trip?"

Angela forced a smile. "It was great!" she told him, then immediately retreated to her room. As expected, her father wasn't interested in the details. Angela dropped her bag on the floor and threw herself onto her bed.

Her father had been right about Brandon.

He was right about her too.

Why did she ever think she was deserving of "more credit," whatever that even meant? What did she want him to appreciate about her? Her recklessness? Her childishness? He'd only given her two rules, and she'd broken both of them.

Angela wondered why he'd changed his mind and let her go on the trip. He'd been right the first time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Elliot did what he had to do to take Mr. Robot offline, despite his fervent protests. Now he could be alone, however briefly, with his memories.

That night, in that tent, he and Angela sat there in awkward silence. Elliot had no idea what to say after…after what had happened, and apparently Angela was going through the same struggle. He wanted to say that that had been nice, but she already knew how he felt. He wanted to ask "now what?" but he knew she didn't have an answer any more than he did. While Elliot weeded out possible questions and comments, a familiar, loud voice came from just outside the tent.

"Uhh, _hello?"_ his little sister shouted. "What are you guys _doing_ in there?"

Elliot stayed quiet and rubbed his eyes. This situation couldn't get any more uncomfortable.

Angela unzipped the tent and greeted her, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Hey, Darlene," she breathed. She quickly moved one of the straps of her shirt back onto her shoulder, her face reddening even more.

There was never anyone more incapable of hiding a blush than Angela.

Darlene looked her up and down. "What the hell happened to you? Were you doing calisthenics in here?"

"Do you need something?" Angela asked with thinly veiled impatience.

"I need my idiot brother." Darlene stuck her head in the tent and stared at him. "Elliot, you gotta help me with something!"

Elliot really didn't feel like moving.

 _"_ _Now!"_ Darlene snapped.

Elliot sighed and crawled out of the tent, hoping the reason for his laborious movements wasn't obvious to anyone. He heard Angela mumble something like "good night" behind him. He didn't look at her, or say anything, which he felt terrible about.

Elliot helped Darlene with her computer, then he got into his sleeping bag as quickly as possible. He stared at the wall of the tent and tried to calm down as he listened to Darlene typing. He found the sound quite relaxing.

Darlene harrumphed. "What's the problem? You and Angela are being weird."

Elliot couldn't deny that, so there was no point in responding to the comment. He was glad and fairly shocked when Darlene didn't keep pestering him about his behavior.

He didn't sleep at all that night.

The next morning he and everyone else were instructed by Brent to not only load their own things into the van, but some of his camping equipment as well. Elliot suppressed a sigh. This was not an easy task to accomplish on no sleep. It was a good excuse to avoid talking to Angela about certain things, however.

Elliot worked with Brandon to get everything into the van faster. He had a feeling Brandon didn't like him, but that didn't matter. There were plenty of people at his school who didn't like him. Anyway the two didn't need to say a word to each other to get the job done. Elliot stole a few curious glances at him, wondering what exactly had happened between him and Angela, and why she'd called him a "creep." All sorts of horrible things ran through his head. While he was puzzling it out, Brent arrived, giving his little brother a hard look.

"I need money for the beer your girlfriend took," he said in a low voice.

Brandon huffed. "Come on, it was one beer."

"I don't care about that," Brent snapped. "It's the principle of the thing. I don't buy alcohol for kids. You should've said something when you saw her—"

"Yeah, yeah," Brandon cut him off, pulling out his wallet with a sigh. "She is such a bitch."

"Yeah, whatever. Just give me the money."

Elliot only got a brief look inside Brandon's wallet, but it was definitely a condom he saw tucked underneath some dollar bills. Now he knew for sure where Brandon's mind had been last night. Knowing what he knew about Brandon, it wasn't too difficult to imagine him getting pushy with Angela. Elliot felt a rage inside him threatening to boil over, but he forced it down.

The ride home seemed strangely short. Before he knew it Brent had dropped off him and his sister at their home. He exchanged only a few words with Angela before she left.

Elliot knew he had to do something. He didn't want them to stay in this awkward state forever. He just wanted things to go back to normal.

About a week later Elliot went to Angela's house, with everything he had to say memorized like a stage-actor. But as soon as Angela opened the door, his mind went blank. His first instinct was to just leave, but it was too late now. He'd just have to wing it.

Angela smiled a little, appearing calm and confident for the most part. "Hi, Elliot," she said.

"I wanted to talk to you," Elliot blurted, forgetting in his panic to say a greeting first.

Angela nodded. "Good. Me too."

Then she grabbed his arm and yanked him into her house. Elliot's heart raced. He stared at her wide-eyed, hoping she'd do most of the talking. Just when he thought his anxiety couldn't get any worse, the resident male battle-axe, a.k.a. Angela's dad, appeared in the doorway to the living room. Elliot immediately dropped his gaze to the floor. Yet another person who didn't like him.

"Hey, Dad," Angela greeted him cheerfully.

"Hey." Her dad sniffed. "What's he doing here?"

Elliot tensed. Angela's father had asked the question in a friendly enough tone, but there was a strange edge to it. Then there was the fact that he was talking as if Elliot couldn't hear him, which he hated.

"We have some homework to do," Angela replied smoothly. "We have an AP history class together and it's really difficult."

Angela's dad made a small, surprised sound. "They give you homework to do over the summer?"

"Yeah, all the AP classes have summer projects."

Elliot tried not to smile. He wondered whether or not she'd come up with that lie in advance. Either way he was impressed.

Her dad nodded. "Well, get to work then."

"Of course!" Angela said enthusiastically as she started up the stairs.

Elliot tried to follow her, but her dad's hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him. He jerked his head up, terrified of what he might see written on his face. But Angela's dad was smiling, with no hint of aggravation whatsoever.

"You have fun on the trip?" he asked him.

Elliot nodded.

"Not too much fun, I hope."

 _I made out with your daughter and got pretty worked up about it._ Elliot shook his head.

Angela's dad nodded slowly and thoughtfully. "Okay." Finally he released him.

Elliot tried not to hurry up the stairs, as much as he wanted to. He didn't want to let on how much that conversation had rattled him. What was all that about? It was almost as though he'd seen right through him. Elliot really hoped Angela's dad never found out what had happened. Her dad was already dead set on hating him, and finding out that he had done sort of inappropriate things with his drunk, underage daughter certainly wasn't going to change his mind.

Elliot tried to push those thoughts away as he trudged down the hall and into Angela's room. He had other things to worry about right now.

Angela checked the hallway before closing her door. Probably worried that her dad had followed them. She came to stand in front of Elliot, wringing her hands and sighing. "I hate this," she murmured. "Everything's so awkward now, I…I'm really sorry. It's all my fault."

Elliot shook his head. What she said just wasn't true. He was at least fifty percent responsible for all the awkwardness. Even before That Saturday Night, he'd flirted with her a bit, specifically when they were in the lake. But before he could actually say any of that, Angela was talking again.

"Let's just forget about all that stuff," she said quickly. "You're my friend, you're my _best_ friend. I wanna keep it that way." She searched his face, her eyes glistening with some emotion Elliot wished he could identify. "What do you think?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, absolutely."

"What?"

"I-I mean I want to…do what you said." Elliot sighed at his bumbling. "We're friends." He gave a small smile.

Angela grinned. "Yeah. And we'll always be friends."

Elliot stared at her as she looked him up and down. He had the strange feeling that she was about to jump on him or something similar. She'd had that same look in her eyes the night they kissed. But of course he knew nothing was going to happen, especially considering what she'd just said. He told himself he was just imagining things. Anyway, he was happy being friends with her. He'd never been in a relationship before, and he wasn't going to have his first one be with her. What if things turned bad? _Really_ bad? Knowing himself as well as he did, he knew he'd screw it up. Then he wouldn't have a girlfriend or a friend anymore. And Angela was the best friend he'd ever had. He couldn't afford to lose her.

Angela let out a breath, relieved. "I'm so happy things can just go back to normal now," she murmured. She shifted her feet nervously. "I-I know I said we should just forget about it, but…" She trailed off with a sigh. "Never mind."

"It was nice," Elliot said, before he could stop himself.

Angela's face lit up. "Yeah, it—Yeah."

Heavy footsteps sounded from down the hallway.

Angela's smile faded. "I'm sorry about him. You should probably go."

Elliot wasn't going to argue with that suggestion. He followed Angela down the hall, and they found her dad waiting at the top of the stairs. He was distractedly looking through some papers on a small table by the railing. He looked up as they approached.

"That was fast," he commented.

Angela smiled innocently and stayed quiet.

Elliot thought it'd be better if she responded. Her silence seemed suspicious. But he reminded himself that she was adept at handling her father. She knew how he ticked. Elliot was worried he'd follow them, but he stayed at the top of the stairs. Probably he was eavesdropping. Well, sadly for him, there was nothing of interest to hear. Elliot sighed in relief as he stepped out onto the stoop. Angela joined him there.

"I'll see you later," she said.

Elliot nodded.

Angela edged closer to him, her arms out. Then she hesitated. "Is it okay if I hug you?"

Elliot smiled and gave a small nod. He took a deep breath to calm himself as she put her arms around him. He wanted to hug her back, but his anxiety had already turned his arms into lead. So he just stood stock-still in her embrace, trying not to notice that her hair smelled very nice, like strawberries. Friends weren't supposed to smell each other's hair. After a few long moments, she let go of him, smiling brightly.

"Bye," she murmured.

"Bye," Elliot said. Then he left the stoop and walked back home.

So that was it.

Elliot looked back on the interaction with regret for a number of years. He had wished that despite his fear he'd just kissed her or made some grandiose proclamation. But maybe things like that were meant only for the movies. Or people who weren't him.

It didn't matter anymore. Those days were so long ago. He was practically a different person back then.

Elliot often daydreamed about a normal life. One with Angela. And Darlene would be there too, with Cisco, and Trenton and Mobley. And there would be other friends he'd made, because in this good, normal reality, he knew how to do that.

Elliot knew it would never happen. Not unless he got off the path he was on. Did he even want to leave it, though? Did he really want a normal life? A part of him did. He'd been told by his therapist and he'd read in countless books and seen in every cartoon that you could do anything you set your mind to. It was difficult, but not impossible. He could stay off drugs. He could read that small stack of self-help books collecting dust under his bed. He could be with Angela. He could rebuild his relationship with his sister, and he would never forget her ever again. He could have a few close friends. He could have a family.

Another part of him wasn't so interested in all that. He wanted to stay on the path, see his plans come to fruition. He could deflect the blame all he wanted, say it was Mr. Robot. But he wasn't real. There was no evil puppet master pulling the strings. It was just him. He'd started fsociety. He'd come up with the master plan. He'd made Tyrell Wellick disappear, or he'd killed him, or whatever it was he'd done. He'd done all of it. He'd do whatever it took to complete the mission. His drive and arrogance burned bright in him.

Even if the normal part of him won out…no, no, he couldn't do it. He couldn't be normal. His life had become a waking nightmare. He didn't know what was real anymore. He didn't know what else he had forgotten or blocked out. He'd forgotten Darlene. He'd thought Mr. Robot was a real person, and didn't even recognize his own father's face. Sometimes, deep into the night, his mind reeled. He wondered how much of his life he'd either forgotten or invented. Looking back on the camping trip, and the time he spent with Angela…he felt more hollow than happy when he thought of it. And even when he thought of Angela sometimes, he felt hollow. Maybe it was just some fantasy he'd created to make himself feel better about himself. Because he was messed up, but somehow somebody really lovely had fallen in love with him, so he couldn't be that awful.

…Did he have anybody? What about Darlene and Cisco and Mobley and Trenton? Maybe he was actually all alone.

So that was why it was impossible. Even if he wasn't on The Path, he knew he was too damaged for a normal life.

 **"** **Aww, shit, that smarts."**

Elliot sat up fast. Mr. Robot paced by the door, flickering in and out of existence.

He rubbed his temples, his face crumpled with discomfort. **"We need to have a talk about this,"** he grumbled, his voice growing clearer as he solidified. He gave his head a hard shake.

Elliot tensed as Mr. Robot shot a glare at him. He was definitely in for it now.

Mr. Robot marched over to Elliot, pointing an angry finger at him. **"Don't you** ** _ever_** **do that to me again! I am** ** _done_** **with the dopamine baths!"** He grabbed Elliot by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. **"Now, we're gonna have a talk,"** he breathed, tugging Elliot closer. **"A** ** _real_** **talk. Or we can talk about how uncomfortable it is for you to blow your load while the guard is standing three feet away. Which would** ** _you_** **prefer?"**

Elliot struggled in his grasp, his eyes narrowed.

 **"** **Good choice."** Mr. Robot released him. **"Sorry, just needed to let off a little steam there. Anyway, I'm proud of you, kiddo. Sounds like you've finally come to your senses. Hormones really clear the mind. We know that better than anybody."**

"Are you finally going to tell me what happened to Tyrell?" Elliot demanded.

Mr. Robot shook his head. **"No. But listen: all in good time, right? And, hey, could be soon. Your head's in the right place, so I think you're almost ready for the truth."** He sighed contently. **"I'm just so glad we're on the same page again. I was getting pretty worried when you kept cranking out all the Angela clip shows. 'Cause, man, seriously, has that girl ever got some issues of the daddy variety. Right now she's probably trying to bang as many fifty- and sixty-somethings as it takes for her dad to finally love her. It's not like your shit don't stink, though. You've got some daddy issues of your own, I mean—"** He pointed to his face. **"Look at the mug you chose for me. But, anyway—now you get it, right? You gotta stop thinking about that rom-com shit, seriously, it's for the best. You gotta get your head in the game. Also I'm pretty sure you're cursed. Let's not forget what happened to the last chick you stuck your dick in."** He grimaced. **"I don't wanna dredge up any past trauma or anything, but…** ** _yikes_** **. That was not a happy camper in that trunk."**

Elliot stared blankly at him. He was rambling again.

Mr. Robot grinned and clapped Elliot's shoulders. **"Hey, you're looking tired. Go offline for a bit, have a mental vacation. You deserve it."**

Elliot couldn't disagree with any of that. Even if he did though, it didn't matter. Mr. Robot had seen his mind and knew he was not up for a fight at the moment. He spoke like Elliot had a choice in the matter, even though he knew he didn't. Mr. Robot liked his games and his power.

Elliot felt himself slipping away slowly. And he didn't fight it. Not at all. He welcomed it.

Mr. Robot's smile grew. Then he disappeared.

 ** _"_** ** _See you in a while, kiddo."_**

Then Elliot was gone, swallowed by a peaceful nothingness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13  
**

Angela watched with bleary eyes as the numbers lit up on the elevator, one by one by one. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. It was so agonizingly slow it put her into a trance, which was the last thing she needed in her exhausted state. She yawned yet again as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. She mindlessly trudged out of the elevator with a couple other people, not realizing until the doors closed behind her that she hadn't even checked the floor number. She sighed. Perhaps, by some stroke of luck, she'd gotten off on the right floor. She started slowly down the hall.

So many of the floors in the E-Corp building were identical. Angela had gotten a bit lost on her first day. But she couldn't place all the blame on the building. Mostly she hadn't been paying proper attention due to her nerves. It was the same situation she found herself in today, only now it was due to tiredness.

Angela stopped walking and forced herself out of her haze. This certainly wasn't her floor. On this floor there was a large window that looked into a meeting room, which was currently filled with the usual group of important looking men in suits. Angela turned to go back to the elevators, then immediately jerked to a halt as something caught her eye. Angela stood there frozen and stared into the meeting room. A familiar pair of green eyes stared back. The men in the room had started to push back in their chairs and get to their feet. One stood and blocked that piercing gaze from Angela's view. That snapped her out of it.

 _Move._

Angela hurried down the hall…going in the wrong direction. She was in a blind panic. _Get a hold of yourself._ Behind her the door to the meeting room opened, and the hallway was filled with the placid and all-business voices of employees. It was too late to turn around now. Angela attempted to breathe normally as she searched for an elevator. No luck. Nothing. Office, office, office. Stairs? None. There, a bathroom. That would do.

Angela pushed open the door and entered the bright white space. She braced herself on the sink, her heart pounding. All those things she'd said…No, she knew she had to calm down. It didn't matter what she'd said. He couldn't get her in trouble. Even so, she didn't want to see him. She'd just stay in the bathroom until he left the hall to go about his usual business, whatever that was. Angela took a deep breath. She was fine. Everything was fine. She'd wait just a couple more minutes and then—

The bathroom door flew open, bouncing off the wall with a resounding _clunk._ The footfalls on the tiles were the loudest sounds in the world.

Angela didn't move. She stared down at the sink, watching the faucet drip. _Calm down. You're being paranoid. It's not him._ Angela lifted her head and stared into the mirror. Her terrified eyes stared back at her. And he was there too, standing a few feet behind her, hands in his pockets.

"You're really something." Emanuel's quiet voice echoed around the room. "You're so full of rage." He sounded amused. "You can't even hold it in, you just—spill your guts to some stranger. And the arrogance too." He pulled his hands out of his pockets and took a few steps closer.

Angela watched him in the mirror, taking a few deep, shuddering breaths.

"You think I'm stupid, don't you?" he chuckled. "That whole drunk chick routine was pretty funny. I'm sorry you didn't reel in the rapist you were fishing for." He edged even closer. His gaze was sharp, his jaw tight. "I think it's in your best interest to watch what you say. Especially when you don't even know who you're talking to."

Angela trembled. He was right behind her now, so close she felt his breath on the back of her neck.

"I solve problems," he said. "That's my job. I hope you're not going to be a problem."

Angela tensed as he dragged his fingers through her hair. She let out a small, involuntary noise of fear she wished she hadn't, because then his eyes lit up.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice silky. "I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want you to be a problem." He curled his fingers around her hair. "I'm adept at reading people, and I think you'd make a great executive. You have _exactly_ what it takes. Besides that…" He let out a breathy sigh. "You're a good lay. Though, if you want to know why you're still single, it's probably due to certain aspects of your personality." He chuckled. "I don't think most men like women that act like they're constantly having their periods."

Angela breathed fast, her throat aching from trying not to sob. She felt like a small animal in a bear trap.

Emanuel wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. "Anyway, what you need to take away from our conversation is this—" He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back _"—don't be a problem."_

Angela bit down hard on the inside of her lip to stop herself from letting out a yelp of pain. She wouldn't give him any more power over her. Her eyes were locked on the floor as Emanuel leaned close, his hot breath washing over her face.

"Do you understand?" he asked slowly.

Angela couldn't speak. She nodded as much as she could in her captive position. She just wanted this to be over.

"Good."

Angela let out a gasp of relief when he finally released her. She felt like her stomach and ribs and brain and every other part of her had been ripped to shreds. She listened to Emanuel's thundering footsteps as he left the bathroom. He spat out some insult akin to "stupid fucking bitch," only worse. Angela didn't think she'd ever have a day where being called that word would be the least horrible thing to happen to her.

Angela took a few shaky breaths to calm herself. She wanted to get out of this room. But she didn't want to go out there and do her job like normal and act like everything was fine. But that was exactly what she was going to do, what she _had_ to do.

Angela took the briefest moment to compose herself. Then she left.

* * *

At the end of the day, Angela found herself in front of a familiar door. A door with chipping dark green paint and dirty bronze numbers hanging loosely from the scratched wood. Angela shifted her bag onto her shoulder and raised her hand to knock, then she hesitated. She'd told her not to come around here. Neither she nor Elliot wanted her too near to everything during this sensitive time. They'd done it, hadn't they? She strongly suspected they were behind the hack. If they weren't solely responsible, they at least helped in some way. That's why they didn't want her around. But they were being a bit silly, weren't they? Angela just wanted to talk, and not about anything to do with the hack or any future ones. She needed this right now. She'd made her choice.

She knocked rapidly on the door.

It was quiet a moment. Then footsteps sounded from inside, getting louder and louder as they approached the door. Then the lock clicked and the door swung open.

Angela smiled at her friend. She was glad to see her face, even if it was currently crumpled with displeasure. "Hi, Darlene."

Darlene rolled her eyes. _"Bye,_ Angela." She slapped her hand on the door and backed into her apartment.

Angela stopped the door with her fist. She stared at Darlene's scowling face and tried to ignore the pain in her hand. "I just wanted to talk for a bit," she told her calmly.

Darlene leaned out the door. "I'm busy." She tried to close the door again, but Angela wouldn't let her. "Why?" she whined.

"Please?" Angela begged, wishing she had the energy to say more.

"I am _busy!_ " Darlene repeated, drawing out the last word to a ridiculous length. "And—shit, can _you_ not remember anything either? You and my brother are a match made in mentally ill heaven! I told you: don't come around here and just, like—"

"Come on!" Mobley yelled from somewhere inside the apartment. "Just let her in! You're being paranoid!"

Angela smiled, pleased that someone was on her side. "You're being paranoid," she echoed coolly.

Darlene groaned loudly. She stormed back into the apartment, throwing her arms up in frustration. "Shit! Fine! You can come in! Is everyone done ganging up on me now?!"

Angela followed her in. Trenton and Mobley were sitting on the couch, eyes glued to their laptops.

Mobley shot her a brief, amused look. "She's gone full E-Corp."

Trenton grinned at the comment.

Angela just stared at them, stone-faced. She wasn't in the mood for those sorts of jokes today.

Darlene sighed. "I need some air." She eyed Angela as she hurried to the door. "You wanna talk or what? Move your ass!"

Angela caught up to her in the dimly lit hallway. Darlene sped up as they climbed down the cracked stone stairs, and Angela struggled to keep up with her. Obviously Darlene had been wanting to get outside for a while, and this was the perfect excuse for doing so.

Darlene pushed open the front door and plopped down on the stoop. Angela sat down beside her. It was nearly nighttime. A nearby streetlight flickered, desperate for the dark.

Darlene breathed in deeply, relishing the cool air. She cocked her head towards Angela and studied her face. She snorted.

Angela blinked. "What?"

Darlene smiled knowingly. "You got laid last night, didn't you? Come on, admit it."

Angela scoffed, but Darlene's smile was contagious. "Yes, I did."

Darlene nodded approvingly. "Nice. Was it any good? Don't hold out on me. Give me those deets."

"It…it was fine."

Darlene huffed and shoved her friend in frustration. "Come on, give me _something!_ Anything! At least tell me if you got off."

Angela smiled in faint amusement. "Aren't we a little old to be talking about this stuff?"

 _"Old?_ Pff! Are you kidding me? What, you think you're so above it all? Please. 'Ooh, look at me,'" Darlene spoke in a ridiculously high-pitched voice, "'I'm Angela! I've done every guy in the city but I'm not gonna tell my friend anything 'cause I'm a grown-up now!'"

Angela was not so amused anymore. "Every guy in the city, huh?" she muttered.

"Hey, you remember when we first got here? You banged your way up and down Fifth Avenue!"

"That was two guys."

"Yeah, but—"

"And that didn't happen on Fifth Avenue."

Darlene waved dismissively. "Okay, obviously you're not here to talk about this shit." She smiled warmly at her friend. "What's up?" Worry flashed in her eyes. "Everything okay?"

"Not really," Angela admitted.

Darlene nodded in understanding. "Work sucks, right?" she guessed.

"Kind of, yeah."

Darlene grinned, nudging her friend with her elbow. "You go full E-Corp yet?" She chuckled through her words.

There it was again. Is this what they joked about when she wasn't around? Angela felt herself smiling though. She found more humor in the joke when Darlene was the one saying it. "Not yet," she replied. "But when it happens, you'll be the first to know."

Darlene gave a thumbs-up. "Cool." She took a moment to look out at the street, the dark pavement and buildings now illuminated by streetlights and neon. She sighed quietly and stared down at her nails, picking at them absentmindedly. "I miss him," she murmured.

Angela felt a pang of sadness. "Me too."

Darlene groaned and rubbed her stomach. "And the low blood sugar is _not_ helping my shit mood. Can't remember the last time I ate anything."

Angela slid her bag off her shoulder and unzipped it. "I have a salad," she told her. Angela had planned to eat it for lunch as usual, but the incident with Emanuel had left her feeling too nauseous to even think about food. She also didn't want to run the risk of having to converse with Winnie again. She hated pretending to be cheerful while listening to her babbling.

Darlene frowned. "Salad? Thought you hated salad. It's like I don't even know you anymore."

Angela pulled out the plastic container and handed it to Darlene, who very reluctantly took it. "I do hate salad. But the dressing's really good."

Darlene stared doubtfully at the container. She popped the lid, pinched the dressing cup between her fingers, and examined it.

"Really, it's good," Angela insisted.

Darlene shook her head as she opened the cup and squished its contents into the salad. She took the fork and shoveled some lettuce into her mouth. She chewed slowly, her eyes narrowed. Then she opened her mouth and let the food fall back into the container. "That's freaking disgusting!" she yelled, spitting and gagging. "You like this shit?"

"Yeah," Angela muttered, simultaneously distressed and amused by her reaction.

Darlene shoved the container into Angela's hands. "Tastes like jizz."

"…Okay."

"That's probably what it is. Like, leftover bull semen that never got into the cow or whatever." Darlene raised her eyebrows. "Hey, since we're talking about bodily fluids—"

"Umm, _'we?'"_

"—So this guy you banged…" Darlene shot her a doubtful look. "Nothing serious, right?"

Angela shook her head. "Just a one-night stand." Her heart raced. Her mind kept replaying the incident from that morning again and again. _Calm down. It's over now. It's over._

Darlene clicked her tongue. "Yeah, uhh, don't take this the wrong way, but…that's _probably_ a good thing? All of your boyfriends have sucked ass."

Angela felt the need to defend her love-life, but she found she was having great difficulty with that task. "Not _all_ of them," she said vaguely.

 _"Most,"_ Darlene said. "You kinda have shit taste in men, sorry."

Angela let out a small chuckle.

Darlene shook her head in confusion. "It's not funny." She gasped and clapped her hands together. "Oh my god! You remember that guy you dated in high school?"

Angela felt a rage she'd thought had died long ago burn bright again. "You mean Brandon?"

Darlene gave her a look of horror. "Oh, shit, no, not him. I mean that other guy. The blond guy you were talking to on the trail." She sighed wistfully. "That camping trip was crazy. You know I just remember, like, the whole time, I was nervous about some stupid math class I was gonna have to take in the fall. God, I'd give anything to have those problems again."

"What was wrong with Reggie?"

Darlene snorted. "He was a gawky weirdo. Can't believe you ever dated him." She glanced around the street, looking thoughtful. "Guess I thought…I donno. 'Specially after that camping trip, thought you and…" She trailed off, blushing slightly.

"What?" Angela asked, though she had a feeling she knew what Darlene was getting at.

Darlene looked at her, her eyebrows crumpled together. "So, uhh…that Saturday night…"

Angela's heart pounded. Darlene knew, didn't she? "Yeah…?"

Darlene frowned. "You and my brother, like…You guys banged, right?"

Angela's face was on fire. "No!"

"Yeah, but like, close enough, right? Like halfway to horizontal?"

 _"No,"_ Angela said again. And that was the truth. She hoped Darlene believed her and calmed down, because she looked like she was about to vomit all over her.

Darlene huffed. "So nothing happened? For ten god-damn years I thought you guys had screwed each other's brains out while I was sitting five feet away."

Angela sighed. Her face still burned. "You could've just asked me back then."

"Yeah, no. Would've been _way_ too awkward. Case in point."

Angela chuckled weakly.

"But seriously, you can't blame me for thinking that's what went down, okay?" Darlene's stare was intense. '''Cause way before that trip, shit was brewing. I remember thinking, 'wow, this is what puberty does to people. It messes them up.' Like, I caught you giving Elliot the _fuck-me-now_ eyes a _lot."_

Angela spluttered in shock. "I-I-I didn't—!"

 _"Oh,_ yes you did," Darlene cut her off. "For years I was busting my ass doing damage control, just trying to shield Elliot from all that crap. At that point he was way too anxious to even have a sexuality."

Angela smiled slyly. Now she could get back at Darlene for making her feel so embarrassed. "Well, I don't know about that. He seemed pretty—"

"No!" Darlene snapped, her eyes wide with horror. "Shut the hell up!"

"I mean, that Saturday night—"

Darlene clapped her hands over her ears. "Stop! I'm gonna be scarred for life, dipshit!"

Angela chuckled.

Darlene dropped her hands to her sides, her face bright red. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," she grumbled. She grew very quiet then, watching the cars go by with a thoughtful gaze. "So," she drawled quietly. "You still…I mean you still like him, right?"

Angela's words caught in her throat. She jumped when Darlene let out a shout of frustration.

 _"God!_ Then just _do_ something about it already! You and my brother are so the same: you make things way freaking harder than they need to be! You're both a couple of drama hounds!"

Angela didn't want to talk about this anymore. She was glad that Darlene was so supportive, but this conversation was making her heart ache. She got to her feet. "I think I should go," she said. "It's been a…a long day, and I'm pretty beat."

Darlene stood up as well. "Yeah, I feel you," she breathed, climbing the stairs to the door. "Guess I'll see you…whenever I see you." She shot her one last melancholy glance before disappearing into the building.

Angela stood on the stoop just a few moments more. She hoped she'd see her again sooner rather than later. She sighed forlornly. Then she walked quickly down the steps and made the trek home.

* * *

Angela didn't see Emanuel the next day, as she'd feared she would. She never saw him again.

At lunchtime she sat outside as per usual, picking at her salad, but her mind was somewhere far away from that bleak stretch of concrete. Just as she had that Saturday night on that ill-fated camping trip, she thought of the future. But this time, her friends didn't cross her mind as much as she expected them to. Instead she thought of herself. Her job, her life, her path.

She was really in it now: the belly of the beast. She never could have imagined that she'd end up here. E-Corp and the Washington Township Leak: the bur that had been buried inside her long ago, too deep to ever be dug out. Until now.

Still it wouldn't be so simple. In fact it may be more difficult than anything she'd ever undertaken. She may have to answer some tough questions. What was she willing to do? What was she willing to give up?

Perhaps just about anything. Angela hoped that wouldn't be the answer. Lately things had been frightening though. Not just out there in the post-5/9 world, but also in her mind: the storm that raged within. The chaos so often threatened to consume her. Even now she felt herself slipping away slowly.

Isn't this what she wanted, though? Of course. Of course it was. She wanted _—needed—_ to stay on this path. She just hoped she'd still be in one piece when she reached the end of it.

"Good morning, Angela!"

 _Winnie._ Angela didn't say anything. She just stared at her, eyes betraying no emotion. She felt it: she was going to take out her frustrations on her.

"May I sit with you?" Winnie asked, though she was already sitting down, not even waiting for an answer. Obviously she expected a yes.

Wrong.

"No," Angela murmured.

Winnie blinked at her. "Is everything all right?" she asked softly. "What's wrong, honey?"

"I don't want you to sit with me."

Winnie spluttered in surprise. Her nervous fingers tugged on the stack of napkins beside her sandwich. "I-I…Why not? I'm sorry, was it something I-I said—"

"It's _everything_ you said," Angela snapped. "Moreover the problem is just _you."_

Winnie's bottom lip trembled. "Wha—? I don't—" Her voice broke. "Angela—"

"I'm sick of listening to your babbling. Maybe if you'd spent less time mindlessly chit-chatting and more time doing your job, you wouldn't be twice my age and still a pathetic peon making half of what I do."

Winnie stared at her, eyes glistening, mouth agape. Then she made a small, sad sound and dropped her gaze.

Angela watched her reaction with satisfaction. Good. Let one of the E-Corp drones feel like prey for once. A moment later, Winnie left without a word.

Angela ate her lunch alone. Then she returned to her desk. She reached into her bag for her earbuds and phone, but then she hesitated. It was time to get serious. She didn't need music to keep her mind in the right place. She could do that herself.

Angela typed, listening instead to the sounds of the office. Ordinary sounds. But it wasn't an ordinary place; she didn't know why she'd foolishly thought that it was. On the surface was the all too common corporate sheen, but just underneath it was a festering waste.

Angela focused on her work, but in the back of her mind she let her rage quietly simmer. Before long she didn't even notice the room around her, full of its dull sounds and dreadful people. She'd let her buried feelings swallow her up.


End file.
